A JVl B H I C A N 
REVOLUTION 



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OLIVER CLAY 



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HEROES OF THE AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION 



HEROES OF THE 
AMERICAN REVOLUTION 



BY 

OLIVER CLAY 
u 

Author of "The Treasure Finders' 




NEW YORK 
DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 

1916 






Copyright, 1916 
By DUFFIELD & COMPANY 



DEC 19 1916 

©GI.A446856 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Men of Massachusetts .... i 

II The Royal Province of Virginia . . 26 

III The Part New York Played .... 47 

IV The Rally of the Patriots 75 

V The Writer of Our Declaration of 

Independence 103 

VI The Birth of the American Army. . 117 

VII Our Foreign Allies 138 

VIII The Shadows of the Revolution ... 165 

IX Daughters of Liberty 200 

X Our Revolutionary Navy 230 

XI From Lexington to Yorktown . . . 257 

XII Our Commander-in-Chief 288 



HEROES OF THE AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION 

CHAPTER I 

THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 

WE talk in a wise way about events in history; 
we even know the dates of certain great 
events. The names, too, of certain great men 
stand prominently forth and we are only too apt 
to believe that such and such an event was the 
making of such and such a man, when in reality 
it is the other way round. The man of power is 
bound to shape the events of his time. It is men 
who make history for all time, and this was 
notably the case during that wonderful period of 
the American struggle for independence, when 
a handful of determined men flung the gauntlet 
of defiance in the faces of the English King and 
his Parliament. They never thought of making 
history — these earnest, straightforward, manly 
men — when they presided at great councils and 
raised their voices in indignant protest, as, link 
by link, England forged the chains of slavery. 



2 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

They were only struggling, like all lovers of 
freedom, to be free. 

It is not our purpose to tell the causes of the 
Revolution. Every American boy and girl could 
answer in chorus: ''Taxation without represen- 
tation." Instead, we are dealing with the 
mighty men who fanned the flame of open rebel- 
lion, and who were not only willing, but eager to 
stand by their country or lay down their lives 
in the issue. 

On Thursday, December 16, 1773, there had 
been a steady downpour of rain in Boston Town, 
such a downpour as only a bleak, sobbing Decem- 
ber day in old New England could conjure up; 
but for all that, there were stir and excitement and 
a surging of crowds towards the Old South Meet- 
ing House. From every quarter they came, 
from all the surrounding villages for a distance of 
twenty miles or more, old and young, rich and 
poor, men, women and children, all trudging 
towards Boston with buoyant step, with grave, 
yet eager faces, willing to brave the driving rain 
that they might reach the town in time to sit in 
the vast assembly and listen to the words of 
wisdom from the patriotic leaders of the day. 
Many were to be seen there: the serious and 
dignified Samuel Adams, the most determined 
of them all; the dapper young aristocrat, John 
Hancock; the much-loved Joseph Warren; the 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 3 

stalwart, broad-shouldered Paul Revere, and 
many others known as "Sons of Liberty." 

These people, with the rain running in rivulets 
from their three-cornered hats and streaming over 
their shoulders — for the umbrella was a recent 
innovation used only by a privileged few — were 
hurrying onward that they might hear the latest 
news of the tea ships, then anchored at Griffin's 
Wharf, in Boston Harbor, still loaded with their 
unwelcome cargoes of tea, still hesitating whether 
to turn back to England and satisfy the Patriots 
who had ordered them to go home, or to curry the 
favor of England's most unreasonable King and 
his handful of unwise councillors, and brave the 
anger of a roused populace. 

Noticeable among the crowds was the goodly 
array of sturdy young men and boys, with a look 
of expectation on their faces. We all know that 
look on a boy's face when there is fun or a frolic 
or even a fight ahead, and men are only grown-up 
boys after all, and the young farmers and land- 
holders streaming into Boston Town were bub- 
ling over with excitement, for the patience of the 
Patriots was nearly exhausted and something was 
sure to happen. And something did happen. 
The world was stirred by the news of the Boston 
Tea-Party. Boston Harbor for a single night 
became a gigantic teapot and masquerading In- 
dians emptied into it chest after chest of the tea 



4 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

which had been a forbidden article in patriotic 
households. Everybody knows the story — how 
the good dames had put away their lacquered 
tea-chests, their fat silver kettles and teapots and 
their pretty teacups, for nobody who was any- 
body could drink tea those days; indeed, all the 
ladies of fashion, young and old, signed a pledge 
that they would drink no tea until the odious tax 
was removed. 

It seemed a trifling matter — this dispute about 
tea — but the tea was only another name for 
liberty, and the Americans, as we know, felt at 
this crisis that it might as well be tea as anything 
else, and if our side yielded one jot, England would 
take advantage and oppress us more than ever. 

Meanwhile, the people of Boston held indig- 
nation meetings, and sent protest after protest 
to the Governor, but no attention was paid 
to them, and so at last, with Samuel Adams at 
their head, they decided to make one last stand 
and then — 

Up he rose in the crowded meeting-house, after 
a last fruitless appeal ; his tall substantial brown- 
suited figure towering above them all, and spoke 
the fateful words: "This meeting can do nothing 
more to save the country." 

This was the invitation to the Tea- Party and 
the Boston Patriots responded heartily, rushing 
to Griffin's Wharf led by a handful of men dis- 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 5 

guised as Indians. The hatches of the three 
vessels moored there were broken open, the 
tea-chests were dragged on deck. There was 
little noise and no confusion. The chests were 
opened with hatchets and their contents dumped 
into the harbor. 

In three hours' time all was done, and by ten 
o'clock the town of Boston was sleeping quietly, 
while huge quantities of the detested tea floated 
out into the ocean, much of it being carried by 
wind and tide to the Dorchester shore, and the 
next day it was literally lined with tea, which had 
to be shoveled back into the ocean, and woe be- 
tide the wily person who tried to secrete so much 
as a tea-leaf. All that was preserved is now owned 
by the descendants of Thomas Melville, whose 
shoes, after his return home the night of the Tea- 
Party, were full of tea-leaves. The precious relics 
were bottled and handed down through genera- 
tions. Who took part in the Tea- Party was never 
divulged until long years after America was a 
free country. But what the well-ordered mob 
did so thoroughly was the carefully wrought plan 
of a handful of earnest and determined men. 

The man who stirred the seething pot of re- 
bellion was Samuel Adams, and, led by him, 
Massachusetts sent forth her defiance to England 
whose King smiled at the idea of the little Puritan 
Colony matching its strength against the might of 



6 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the Mother Country. But he forgot that a land 
settled by pioneers must be a land of brave and 
fearless men, and he forgot besides that these 
self-same men had in their veins some of the best 
blood of England and France. The same spirit 
which sent the Puritans and the Huguenots to 
find a new home in America, where free from 
persecution they might worship God in their own 
way, moved them to rebel against the tyranny 
which followed them across the sea. 

We are as familiar with the name of Samuel 
Adams as we are with the name of America. 
Yet, questioned as to what manner of man this 
was, who for years stood almost alone against the 
King and Parliament, few of us could answer. 
Many would say: "Oh yes, we know all about 
Samuel Adams; he was the leader of the Boston 
Patriots, and Boston, of course, was the leader of 
the rebellion against England's tryanny." And 
so the big man would be swallowed up in the big 
cause and nothing more would be known of him ; 
but to be a leader one has to be a very great man 
indeed. The Puritan streak once made an Oliver 
Cromwell, who tore a King from his throne; it 
made also a Samuel Adams, who was the first to 
shout defiance at another King and point the way 
to freedom. Samuel Adams has justly been 
called the Father of the American Revolution. 
It was Massachusetts that led the thirteen colo- 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 7 

nies in their revolt. Boston led Massachusetts, 
and Samuel Adams led Boston. 

This remarkable man was born September 16, 
1722, and his first recorded ancestor was one 
Henry Adams, who, while not mentioned as one 
of the Mayflower passengers, must have landed 
about that time. He settled, with his family of 
eight children, near Mount Wollaston, in Quincy. 
He was originally a native of Devonshire, Eng- 
land, and the English families of that name 
boasted of Welsh ancestry, so there was the blood 
of warriors in the Adams pedigree. 

The two grandsons of the original Henry were, 
Joseph Adams, a citizen of Braintree and the 
grandfather of John Adams, our second President, 
and John Adams, a sea captain, the grandfather 
of Samuel Adams, whose father — also Samuel 
Adams — was born on May 6, 1689, in Boston, 
where he lived always, a respected and honored 
citizen, marrying one Mary Fifield when he was 
twenty-four years old, and our Samuel Adams 
was one of twelve children, only three of whom 
survived their lusty father. 

Little is known of his mother except that she 
was a good and a pious woman, but it is evident 
that she had the Puritan idea that children should 
be seen and not heard, for no fond mother's ac- 
count has been handed down to us of Samuel's 
precocious childhood and probably interesting 



8 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

little boyhood, and only mothers can provide 
such details. 

We see him first as a big, studious school-boy, 
older than his years, and it was said of him that 
his punctuality in going to and from school was so 
marked that the laborers regulated their hours 
of work by him. There is no foundation, how- 
ever, for this story. We only know that, as the 
boy grew older, he and his father worked to- 
gether for the good of Boston Town, and very 
early in life young Samuel began to look sus- 
piciously upon England's treatment of her Ameri- 
can colonies. 

The Adams family was supposed to be rich, 
for Samuel Adams, Sr., owned a handsome estate 
in Purchase Street. They lived in a fine mansion 
fronting the river, but we know little of the life 
that went on behind its doors. The boy, Sam- 
uel, passed unnoticed into manhood and gradua- 
ted from Harvard; his thesis, for which he re- 
ceived the degree of A.B. in 1740, showed the 
fighter. It was " Whether it be lawful to resist 
the Supreme Magistrate, if the Commonwealth 
cannot otherwise be preserved." No one paid 
much attention to the young graduate and his 
paper, but it was the first word of defiance, though 
Governor Shirley and the other officers of the 
Crown, who listened to the unfledged speakers at 
Commencement, probably thought of the speech 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 9 

as a bit of puffed-up oratory, little dreaming that 
they were looking down upon the great leader of 
the Revolutionary group. 

It is hard to say just what makes a man a 
leader. He may have the gift of oratory, or the 
gift of persuasion ; he may have the money to draw 
the people, or the mind to govern them, or the 
presence to attract them. Whatever it was in 
Samual Adams, it was not the force that worked 
swiftly and suddenly, but slowly and surely. For 
many years he stood alone in his opposition to the 
Mother Country, but, as England began to en- 
croach upon her rights, little by little he was able 
to draw around him the group of men who repre- 
sented the patriotism of Boston. Samuel Adams 
had inherited from his father the fine public spirit 
which makes a good citizen. Samuel Adams, the 
elder, had occupied many public positions in Bos- 
ton Town, and his influence could be felt in both 
church and state. "A wise man and a good 
man," his son called him. 

When the young man was twenty-one, the 
family fortunes looked unpromising, and so 
"Sam" Adams turned to mercantile life and en- 
tered the office of Thomas Cushing. The pro- 
fession of law had been his choice, but his pious 
mother, disappointed that he had not chosen the 
ministry for which he had been intended, op- 
posed the law. 



10 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

But Samuel Adams had no head for business; 
he left Mr. Cushing after a few months, and went 
into business for himself with £1,000 his father 
gave him. Half of this he lent to a friend who 
never repaid it, and the other half he soon lost. 
Then he and his father became associated in a 
malthouse built on their place, but money-mak- 
ing was not the strong point of the Adams family, 
and Samuel Adams was looked upon as "thrift- 
less" by many who knew him, though there were 
some with clearer heads who predicted for him a 
promising future. After his father's death in 1 748, 
and his marriage to Elizabeth Checkley, a minis- 
ter's daughter, in 1749, he still kept up the busi- 
ness of the malthouse, and, sharing his father's 
small fortune with his brother and sister, man- 
aged to live without money worries for a while. 

In 1757, however, his wife died, leaving him a 
son, another Samuel, and a daughter, and it 
was well that he had no larger family to provide 
for, as business misfortune pursued him. But in 
spite of this, people were beginning to regard him 
in another light ; he began to have a voice in Town 
government, and a very powerful voice it was too, 
as they very soon learned. He was appealed to 
to settle political disputes, and his cleverness at 
drawing up papers and contracts made his opinion 
sought after by many who had laughed at his busi- 
ness methods and had called him "thriftless." 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS II 

He held many offices in the Town government; 
he was on committees of all sorts, to see that 
chimneys were properly inspected, to see that 
precautions were taken against smallpox, and he 
was annually elected as tax collector. Always, 
up to this, a loyal supporter of the Crown, he saw 
many royal governors come and go; of all these 
it was Thomas Hutchinson, destined to be the 
last royal governor of Massachusetts, who most 
aroused his antagonism by trying to enforce the 
laws which were so detestable to the American 
people. Poor Hutchinson was only doing his 
duty in upholding the authority of the Crown, 
which he did at the risk of life and property, but 
his journals and letters show that he was opposed 
to the tax on tea, and was forced to act as the 
English Parliament commanded. 

Meanwhile, as the years passed and England 
pressed the thumbscrew upon her loyal subjects, 
Samuel Adams busied himself — like the far-see- 
ing statesman that he was — in gathering about 
him a circle of men who stood for strength, 
honesty and patriotism, — all more or less con- 
vinced that England was tyrannical, all seeking 
peaceful methods to bring her to terms. Yet, of 
that brilliant group, Samuel Adams alone saw 
the only way out of their difficulties, and worked 
towards freedom with an energy which never 



12 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

flagged. One by one the men about him came 
closer to his side. 

John Adams, his cousin and intimate friend, 
lawyer and orator, was his warmest ally. He 
had formerly lived in Braintree, but removed to 
Boston in 1763. The cousins were more like 
brothers in their relations to each other, and the 
brilliant young lawyer's fluent tongue and pen 
spoke oftener than his more silent cousin. De- 
voted heart and soul to liberty, he used his best 
efforts to protest on the many occasions when 
England overstepped her authority, and both 
Samuel and John were prominent and active 
"Sons of Liberty." 

This was a club formed first in Boston, then 
extending to other colonial towns, — a secret so- 
ciety organized for the protection of American 
colonists and the upholding of liberty, and the 
members assembled night after night at the Green 
Dragon Tavern or at the house of Mr. William 
Campbell, who kept what was known as the 
Salutation Tavern, so named from its quaint sign 
which represented two gentlemen, in the fashion- 
able dress of the period, in the act of shaking 
hands. A most important branch of this club 
was called the North End Caucus, which had 
been organized by Dr. Joseph Warren, another 
trusty man, whom Samuel Adams had tied to 
him by the strongest bonds of friendship, and 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 1 3 

whose untimely death, at Bunker Hill, was 
mourned by Adams to the end of his life. 

Another strong member of this little group was 
John Hancock, a young man of high social rank 
and ample fortune, who preferred to cast his lot 
with liberty than to enjoy the fickle favor of a 
King. Many wondered at the influence of Sam- 
uel Adams over this elegant young gentleman with 
his foppish tastes. Outwardly a plain, stolid, 
rather prosaic elderly man, who lived from hand 
to mouth, who wore badly cut clothes of a dingy 
brown, who cared nothing for the pleasures of 
life, it is marvelous the power Adams had of ruling 
others. It was at one of these meetings at the 
Green Dragon, held as early as October 23, 1770, 
that the members present pledged themselves, 
their lives and their fortunes, to oppose the sale of 
tea, and it was at the printing office of Messrs. 
Edes and Gills, three years later, that the resolves 
for the destruction of the tea were discussed 
behind closed doors. 

"We were so careful," writes Paul Revere in 
his note-book, "that our meetings should be kept 
secret, that every time we met, every person 
swore upon the Bible not to discover any of our 
transactions but to Hancock, Warren, or Church, 
and to one or two more leaders." 

Two more portraits we must add to this group 
of Patriots: James Otis, a young lawyer, and 



14 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Paul Revere, whose aid to the cause of liberty 
has been handed down in song and story. 

Otis, with his fiery eloquence, swayed the dis- 
contented people by his wonderful gift of oratory, 
and, oddly enough, when first we hear of him he 
was advocate-general for the Crown, but the 
Stamp Act displeased him, and his patriotism 
forced him to resign; very shortly thereafter we 
find him arrayed on the side of the Patriots, fight- 
ing for American liberty. Adams, with his clear 
judgment, saw what service this somewhat 
reckless young man could render to his country if 
he could only bridle his tongue and keep him 
from any act of violence; for his hold upon the 
people was so wonderful that his mere entrance 
into any assembly was the signal for shouts and 
clapping. And, even in later days when he was 
broken down in mind and body, the people would 
follow his lightest word. Such a man is a great 
help as well as a great hindrance in times of stress. 

A blow received on his head when in the height 
of his power, in 1769, has often been held to ac- 
count for his oddities and contradictions, and 
his unruliness, but the magnetism which could 
draw a multitude still remained, even when those 
who knew him best felt that he was no longer 
responsible nor trustworthy. John Adams, whose 
faithful diary furnishes us with the most graphic 
history of those stirring times, says of him, in 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 15 

describing one of his speeches: "Otis was a flame 
of fire. With ... a torrent of impetuous 
eloquence, he hurried away everything before 
him. American independence was then and 
there born ; the seeds of patriots and heroes were 
then and there sown to defend the vigorous 
youth." 

This speech, which lasted between four and 
five hours, was one of the first speeches which 
openly denounced taxation without representa- 
tion, as tyranny. But even this "plump, round- 
faced, smooth-skinned, short-necked, eagle-eyed 
young politician" — fiery though he was, — did not 
at first foresee, as Samuel Adams did, the birth 
of a new nation. He thought, as the Colonists 
thought, that he was only fighting Parliament 
with words, and not the King and the King's men, 
with sword and gun. 

His voice was the drum-beat which roused the 
people, but when they rushed to arms, poor James 
Otis — his work done, his service well-nigh for- 
gotten, his splendid mind all darkened — rushed 
too, and fought on Bunker Hill, escaping un- 
scathed, while Joseph Warren, in the fulness of his 
youth and promise, was cut down. 

Little by little the cluster of New England 
Patriots grew in strength and determination, and, 
at the time of the Boston Tea-Party, there was 
hardly a man of repute in Boston Town who had 



1 6 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

not pledged his life and honor to Liberty. The 
presence of British soldiers in Boston was in 
itself enough to inflame the people. 

After the riots, following the Stamp Act, the 
Governor hinted that he would like troops to 
enforce order, and although he asserted that he 
did not want troops to quell a riot, but for the 
good of his country, and never really demanded 
them, it is a certain fact that he was responsible 
for their coming. The people, hearing that 
soldiers were expected, begged Hancock and the 
other Selectmen to call a meeting of protest; but 
it made no difference, for two regiments soon 
reached Boston in fifteen British men-of-war, 
taking a strong position in the harbor around the 
north of the town. 

It must have been a wonderful and exciting 
scene to the peace-loving inhabitants of Boston. 
At night, the harbor was illuminated by a bril- 
liant display of rockets, shot off from the ships' 
decks, and the people, casting away all thoughts 
of coming evil, put out in their boats to get a 
nearer view of the ships, and eagerly watched the 
scarlet-coated infantry marching to their bar- 
racks in the town. To the great indignation of 
the people, Faneuil Hall was taken as quarters 
for one regiment, while Governor Bernard ordered 
the State House, in King Street, to be opened for 
their reception. Hancock, as head of the body 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 17 

of Selectmen, had refused to give quarters to 
these ill-timed visitors, and, although Boston 
Common was only a cow pasture, the people 
resented its use as a camp for one of the regiments. 

Hancock, being a man of influence and fortune, 
as well as a shrewd business man, became the 
target for many attacks, among which he was 
charged with trying to secure, from General 
Gage, the contract to supply these unwelcome 
troops. At this, the peppery Patriot boiled 
over, though the charge was of course proved 
false. He was the merchant prince of his time, 
and therefore above such petty dealings for the 
sake of a few pennies, even had he wished to feed 
the enemies of his country. From that time he 
threw discretion to the winds and worked side by 
side and hand in hand with Samuel Adams, en- 
tering into all his plans so zealously that their 
enemies made many spiteful remarks. When 
Adams's influence made him President of the 
first Provincial Congress, small-minded people 
said that he was the dupe of the wily statesman 
who saw in the wealthy merchant's silks and vel- 
vets and splendid coach a foil for his own poverty. 

After the Tea-Party, Boston Harbor was closed 
to traffic, by order of the King, and would have 
been shut off from all communication with her 
sister Colonies, had it not been for the indomi- 
table spirit of this handful of Patriots who, by 



1 8 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

means of expresses, kept in touch with New York, 
Philadelphia, and the surrounding country. 
These "expresses" were no other than trusty 
messengers on horseback, who knew the country 
and whose eagerness to be of service has earned 
them a niche in history. Foremost among these 
was Paul Revere, a sturdy patriot, who had al- 
ready done much in the way of strirring the 
people to revolt. He was a stalwart, broad- 
shouldered man of about forty, but constant ex- 
ercise and open-air life had trained his muscles 
and had given him iron sinews, and he knew every 
Indian trail through the forests, and every road 
that led from Boston. 

Samuel Adams had a perfect genius for drawing 
about him exactly the right sort of men. Han- 
cock's wealth and social position "gave the lie 
to the Tory sneer that the Whigs were obscure, 
pettifogging attorneys, smugglers, and bank- 
rupt storekeepers." John Adams, with his knowl- 
edge of the law and his heart with the struggling 
people, could hold them in check. James Otis 
could inflame them when the right moment came. 
Joseph Warren could draw up resolutions, form 
societies, hold meetings, preserve law and order 
even among a mob. Adams himself had the gift 
of knowing just when to speak and to act. But 
among them all, Paul Revere came closest to the 
very heart of the people, for he was of the people, 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 19 

earning a livelihood with his skillful hands. He 
was a gold and silversmith by trade, and many 
were the beautiful tankards and teapots and ket- 
tles and dishes which he designed for the use of 
the wealthy Colonial families, and many are the 
heirlooms handed down through generations, 
showing his artistic workmanship. 

As a very young man he learned the art of en- 
graving, and when events crowded thick and fast 
on the American people his clever caricatures of 
America's plight, expressed, better than whole 
pages of history, just how the people felt about 
taxation without representation. He was an 
active "Son of Liberty," was present at all of 
their meetings, and could always be counted on 
in any emergency. Such a man was more than 
useful — he was invaluable — and many a secret 
message he carried through the trackless forests 
to New York and to Philadelphia, and all the 
towns around Boston, before he took the famous 
ride "On the eighteenth of April in seventy-five," 
which Longfellow has so vividly described. It is 
pretty well understood that he took a prominent 
part in the destruction of the tea in Boston Har- 
bor, but it is also recorded that he was quite 
refreshed the next morning and ready to carry 
despatches to New York and Philadelphia, telling 
the good news and begging assistance from all the 
sister Colonies. The far-seeing leaders recog- 



20 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

nized his usefulness, and trusted this one man 
with secret messages which, had they fallen into 
British hands, would have hung or beheaded 
half of Boston. 

We may be sure, while the tempest was brew- 
ing, Paul Revere was in the midst of it. He was 
one of the men who guarded the tea ships and pre- 
vented the captains from landing their cargoes, 
and he was — as has been hinted — one of the dis- 
guised "Mohawk" Indians who helped in its 
destruction. 

After this open act of rebellion, England closed 
the port of Boston, supplies were cut off in all 
directions, and the attitude of the soldiers be- 
came menacing. The King and his councillors 
had further inflamed the people by putting a 
price upon the heads of Samuel Adams and John 
Hancock, and those soldiers encamped upon the 
Commons, which faced the Hancock mansion, 
did everything they could to deface his beautiful 
home, the officers with their swords cutting and 
hacking his fence in a most scandalous manner. 
Another night his enclosure was entered by sol- 
diers who refused to leave, telling him that "his 
house and stable would soon be theirs, and then 
they would do as they pleased." 

Already England had forbidden the shipment 
of firearms and ammunition to the Colonists, and 
the "Sons of Liberty" formed themselves into 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 21 

what was known as the Committee of Safety, 
their object being to gather together all the gun- 
powder and small cannon around Boston and its 
vicinity. The Committee of Safety expanded 
later into the Provincial Congress, which came 
together for the purpose of opposing the tyranny 
of England. It first met at Cambridge, then at 
Concord, and finally at Cambridge, and the 
many indignities offered by England were dis- 
cussed in session, widening the breach day by day. 

John Hancock, as President, spent much of his 
time in Lexington when busy with the duties of 
the Congress. His own home, threatened as it 
was, was hardly a safe spot for an outlawed man. 
Yet nevertheless it had its advantages, for every 
movement of the soldiers on the Common could 
be watched from its windows. 

Such was the state of affairs in Boston Town 
during the absence of the Patriots, who were at- 
tending the Provincial Congress. Dr. Joseph 
Warren, left in charge of all public affairs, had 
his hands full, for rumor had reached him that 
some of the secret councils had been betrayed by 
a traitor in their own camp, afterwards proved to 
be Dr. Benjamin Church. The British troops 
had been informed that there were military stores 
at Concord, and that John Hancock and Samuel 
Adams could easily be captured in Lexington, 
where they were lodging during the sessions of 



22 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Congress, on the way to seize the stores, and prep- 
arations were being quietly made to march. 

Now. indeed, was the time for action. The two 
Patriots must be warned and Concord put in 
readiness for defence. Warren had not far to 
look for a messenger. Paul Revere was at his 
side, his friend and confidant — 

"Ready to ride and spread the alarm 
Through every Middlesex village and farm, 
For the country folk to be up, and to arm." 

Longfellow has given us in glowing verses the 
history of this wonderful ride, the most danger- 
ous part of which has been overlooked in the 
"hurry of hoofs through the village street" and 
the noise and confusion of the roused "minute 
men" as they answered the call of the galloping 
rider, and that was the daring act of crossing the 
ferry in full view of the British man-of-war, Somer- 
set. 

"Just as the moon rose over the bay 
Where, swinging wide at her moorings, lay 
The Somerset, British man-of-war, 
A phantom ship with each mast and spar 
Across the moon like a prison bar, 
And a huge black hulk that was magnified 
By its own reflection in the tide." 

Paul Revere always kept a canoe concealed in 
one of the docks at the northern end of the town, 
and a riding dress ready for any sudden call. 
The ferry-man was not permitted — since the 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 23 

town was under military rule — to ply to and 
fro between Boston and Charlestown after nine 
o'clock at night, so Revere persuaded two of his 
friends to row him over. Their canoe was very 
light; the load of three men was very heavy. It 
was a still night — almost as bright as day; the 
faintest sound could be heard, and the treacher- 
ous moon might disclose them at any moment to 
the full gaze of the enemy. They muffled their 
oars, and Revere watched the river with his pis- 
tol cocked, for fear of a surprise. The men who 
rowed kept under the shadow of the big ship 
as long as possible, and, reaching the open, 
glided with swift, steady strokes to the opposite 
shore. No word was spoken, scarcely a need- 
less breath was drawn, for once betrayed there 
would have been no hope of mercy from their 
captors. 

The real Paul Revere did not wait — as our 
poet wrote — until the two lights shone in the 
North Church Tower, before mounting for the 
ride. When he reached the Charlestown shore, 
his friends told him that the lights had already 
been seen, flashing their warning message, and 
he knew when he prepared to leave Boston ex- 
actly how the British were expecting to march. 
His mission was, first to warn the two Patriots 
who were spending the night with the Reverend 
Mr. Jonas Clark at Lexington, and then on to 



24 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Concord to save the military stores which the 
British were eager to capture. 

As a matter of fact, Paul Revere never reached 
Concord in time to warn them, but the signal 
lights and the massing of the "minute men" did 
their work. Paul Revere had been caught by 
the British soldiers, had escaped and been re- 
captured ; then, while the Battle of Lexington was 
raging, his captors fled, and being freed, but de- 
prived of his horse, he went back to aid Samuel 
Adams and John Hancock in their flight across 
the country towards New York and Philadelphia. 
For it was far more important just then to keep 
the two Patriots out of the clutches of the King's 
men, than to risk capture again in his effort to get 
to Concord. Besides, only two days before, on 
April 1 6, a quiet, peaceful Sunday, Paul Revere, 
unsuspected of any war-like intent, had ridden 
to Lexington on a secret message to the two 
Patriots, and in consequence many of the "min- 
ute men" had already assembled at Concord, 
before the excitement on the 18th and 19th. 

In the old days, the Scottish Highlanders 
kindled their own fires on the heights, and sent 
their runners, with a fiery cross, from clan to clan. 
Our own Indians lit their camp-fires, sat around 
them in solemn conclave, and they, too, sent 
their messengers from tribe to tribe, by the fire 



THE MEN OF MASSACHUSETTS 25 

signal. Paul Revere was in truth the torch- 
bearer of the Revolution, but the fire he carried 
was in his dauntless heart, and 

"The sparks struck out by that steed in its flight, 
Kindled the land into flame with its heat." 



CHAPTER II 

THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 

TTAD the King been asked to name the most 
** *** valuable of his American possessions he 
would not have paused one moment to consider. 
Virginia, with its broad acres of cultivation, its 
wonderful agricultural facilities, its forest lands, 
its fine water courses, its traffic in tobacco, and, 
above all, its people — many of whom were de- 
scended from the flower of knighthood in the 
Mother Country — all added to the value of this 
province in the eyes of this grasping King. And 
truly, Virginia, in the early Colonial days of pow- 
dered dames and gallants, and gorgeous coaches 
and spirited horses, must have been a land of 
promise to the steady-going, stolid English peo- 
ple on the other side. 

Those who came over the seas from curiosity 
to visit the "Virgin land," in many cases took 
unto themselves, by special royal grant, vast 
wooded tracts of land, well watered by streams. 
Unlike their New England neighbors, they were 
not driven from the Mother Country to take 

26 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 27 

refuge in a new world, free from persecution; on 
the contrary, it was the spirit of adventure 
which sent forth the Cavaliers into Virginia. 
In many cases they returned to England to 
exploit their deeds, possibly to obtain new 
grants; and last, but not least, to induce 
others to return with them and help them turn 
huge stretches of forest country into flourishing 
tobacco fields, — for since the days of Sir Walter 
Raleigh tobacco had been the backbone of Vir- 
ginia's industry, and some wise writer has told 
us that "a true history of tobacco would be the 
history of English and American liberty." It 
grew with the growth of the baby Colony and was 
used in many instances instead of money. For 
example, the Virginia planter, who wanted to buy 
something from the country store or from his 
neighbor, usually made his payments in bushels of 
tobacco. The King's money was used in trading 
with other Colonies or in business dealing with 
England herself. But while the landholders of 
Virginia lived in baronial style, little or no money 
passed between them. 

It must not be imagined that all the Virgin- 
ians were Cavaliers, with top-boots, plumed hats 
and curling locks. These were, without doubt, 
the pioneers of old Virginia, just as the Puritans 
were of Massachusstts; but in their wake came 
many others who were poorer and of a far lower 



28 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

station. The English government fell into the 
way of sending to the Colonies persons who had 
come under the shadow of the law for one offense 
or another. These were not always villains or 
ruffians; they were in many cases guilty of only 
the smallest offense, often of none at all except 
poverty, but they were put upon the ships, car- 
ried across the seas and sold into service for 
certain number of years. 

This was a common practice in Virginia; ship- 
loads of such people were sent yearly, and they 
were brought in by the wealthy landholders and 
planters. These people were called "redemp- 
tioners," and after the given time of service they 
were at liberty to work for themselves. Possibly 
they were able to buy a strip of land and plant 
tobacco, which they could sell with profit, and 
little by little the strip would grow into broad 
acres, and they became independent landholders. 

It often happened that boys and attractive 
young girls were forced on the ships for no reason 
at all, save their youth, and sold to the highest 
bidder on reaching Virginia. In this way, many 
planters bought their wives, — for women were 
very scarce in those early days of colonization. 
The girls were often maids of good birth and 
modest bearing, and the boys, serving their term 
of years, grew into fine sons of Virginia soil. 
Even those, transported for some offense, "by 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 29 

turning their hands to industry and improvement, 
and (which is best of all) to honesty, have become 
rich, substantial planters and merchants, settled 
large families, and been famous in the country; 
nay, we have seen many of them made magis- 
trates, captains of good ships, and masters of 
good estates." 

But the Virginia aristocracy — what is gener- 
ally known as the " first families of Virginia," 
the F. F. V.'s — were the ruling spirits of the 
Old Dominion. 

The loyalty of Virginia to King and Crown had 
always been unquestioned. When Charles I lost 
his head, there was consternation among his 
Virginia subjects. When Cromwell became Pro- 
tector of the Commonwealth, there was fierce 
rebellion in Virginia, and many transferred their 
allegiance to the exiled Charles II, even inviting 
him to come to America and rule over a new 
kingdom. Of all the American Colonies, Vir- 
ginia seemed bound by the closest ties to royalty. 
Her governors lived in royal state and held their 
little courts in imitation of the English sovereign, 
and the owners of the big plantations lived on 
their estates with almost feudal splendor. 

With the passing of the Stuarts, a new order 
of things came in, and presently the sensitive 
Colonists felt the tyrannical grip of the house of 
Hanover. The Georges never inspired the love 



30 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

and loyalty in their servants that the Charleses 
did, and, finding that the royal coffers needed 
replenishing, they thought it would be an ex- 
cellent idea to fill them again at the expense of the 
Colonists, taxing them for this thing and that, 
and, as they were not deemed of enough impor- 
tance to have a representative in Parliament, it 
was considered their duty to pay without ques- 
tion whatever tax the Mother Country imposed 
upon them. 

"Why, they are a race of convicts," cried Dr. 
Samuel Johnson, when Parliament seemed in- 
clined to make some concessions, "and ought to 
be thankful for anything we allow them, short of 
hanging." The good Doctor only voiced the 
popular sentiment. Because some few jailbirds 
had been sent to Virginia, all Virginians were 
jailbirds, and then all America, and by the time 
royalty had reached its height of stupidity in the 
person of George III that seemed to be the general 
idea. 

Virginia, for all its vast area, was not a country 
of big cities like New York, Pennsylvania and 
Massachusetts; it was the home of landed gentry 
and small farmers. The broad rolling country 
was divided into large estates, and certain groups 
of these landowners, with their dependents, 
banded together for mutual protection, calling 
themselves counties or "hundreds." So, when 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 31 

the King and his advisers encountered resistence 
to the Stamp Act in the Colonies with big towns, 
the sudden stir it created among these Virginia 
country folk was totally unexpected. Indeed, the 
English people thought Virginia a country of 
yeomen and clodhoppers, until upon one never- 
to-be-forgotten day, young Patrick Henry, rising 
in the House of Burgesses, which was the law- 
giving assembly of the Colony, made a speech 
which has gone ringing through the ages as the 
clarion call of freedom. 

The House of Burgesses was to the Colony 
of Virginia what the Town Council was to Bos- 
ton, what Parliament was and is to England. It 
came into existence because the great landholders 
insisted on having a voice and a vote in all 
matters connected with the welfare of the Col- 
ony. Consequently, with the coming of Sir 
George Yeardley, as Governor-General of Vir- 
ginia, in 1 61 9, came also the welcome news that 
Virginia was to have a representative govern- 
ment, — that is to say, each county was to be 
represented in the general assembly, each member 
being elected by the votes of every free man. 

The first legislative body that ever assembled 
in America met at Jamestown on July 30, 1619, 
and was the first step towards American liberty. 
It was composed of two Burgesses of the thir- 
teen counties, and as time went on and the Colony 



32 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

become more important, the assembly also grew 
in numbers and importance, and, when the 
Georges sat upon the throne, it was a very power- 
ful body in the royal province of Virginia, the 
best blood of each county being represented 
among its members. So, when an obscure young 
lawyer like Patrick Henry was selected to sit in the 
House of Burgesses, he must have had some merit 
which placed him there. 

Patrick Henry was born at Studley, near Rich- 
mond, on May 29, 1736. When he was only a 
few months old the family removed to Mount 
Brilliant. His mother, Sarah Syme Henry, had 
been a widow before she married John Henry, a 
young Scotchman of good birth, and the first we 
hear of her is through Colonel William Byrd, of 
Westover, celebrated in the annals of Virginia for 
many things — the owner of a vast estate, of a 
wonderful library, and of a beautiful daughter, 
the once famous Evelyn Byrd, while his own fame 
will go down in history as the founder of the city 
of Richmond. 

It seems that Colonel Byrd was on a journey of 
inspection through his estates, and stopped for a 
night's lodging at the house of one Mistress 
Sarah Syme, a sprightly and by no means dis- 
consolate widow. Colonel Byrd, being an old 
gallant and fond of the ladies, paid her many 
compliments, and shortly after that we hear of 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 33 

her marriage to John Henry. She had one son 
by her former marriage, John Syme, but he was 
not very long the only child, for the little Henrys 
began to come thick and fast — first, William 
Henry, then Patrick, then seven little girls. 

These children owed to their parents a long 
line of good ancestors — ancestors too, blessed 
with a fair amount of brains. Their father, a 
man of learning and fine character, was held in 
high esteem by the gentlemen of the neighbor- 
hood, and at home he could trace his relationship 
to many eminent people, prominent preachers 
and well known writers. His second cousin, the 
beautiful Eleanor Syme (John Henry had been a 
relative of his wife's first husband), became the 
wife of Henry Brougham, and their eldest son, 
Lord Brougham, celebrated in English law and 
politics, was a third cousin of Patrick Henry. 
Naturally, the renowned Englishman was but a 
child when Patrick Henry was in the height of his 
power, but the blood of free generations flowed 
alike in their veins, making each, in his own 
country, the champion of the oppressed. 

On his mother's side, Patrick Henry inherited 
an equal amount of intelligence. She came from 
the family of Winstons, of Virginia, from old 
Welsh stock, who, when Patrick Henry grew 
famous, were of the opinion that his gifts were a 
heritage from her side of the house; especially 



34 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

his gift of oratory, for his uncle, William Winston, 
was famous among all the orators of Virginia, 
being unsurpassed except by Patrick himself. 

Education, in the days of Henry's boyhood, was 
a pretty poor affair, and the following description 
gives some idea of the ability of the teachers : 

"There were no free schools in Hanover, and 
the pay schools were poor. One merely put up 
his sign, 'John Jones, Teacher'; placed some 
benches in a room ; cut a hickory switch ; and all 
was ready for the torture and the flogging." 

There is no doubt that in those days the aver- 
age boy's road to learning was weary and full of 
pain. Cruel as the Massachusetts teachers were, 
it is possible that the Virginia schoolboy suffered 
even more, because, being a country boy, it was 
harder to drive him to study. 

One Devereux Jarratt, who afterwards became 
an eminent clergyman, taught in Hanover County 
when Patrick was a boy, but there is no record of 
Patrick Henry as his pupil. All we know is that 
the boy attended "a common English school" 
until he was ten years old, when his father took 
him in hand and was thereafter his only tutor. 
To all appearances Henry was a commonplace, 
ordinary boy of his class, fond of hunting and 
fishing, lazy even in his out-door sports ; and many 
critics have asserted that he was illiterate in 
speech. Yet, under his father's instruction, if 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 35 

this was really the case, Henry would have been 
a dullard indeed. William Wirt, a kindly biog- 
rapher, asserts that "he was too idle to gain any 
solid advantages from the opportunities which 
were thrown in his way." 

"One of his boyhood joys," says George Mor- 
gan, who has given us "The True Patrick Henry," 
"was to sit in a shady place and watch the cork 
on his fishing line. Or, flat on his back, with his 
hands clasped under his head and his legs crossed 
in air, he could watch the buzzards in their 
gyrations, a full mile aloft. Considering the 
native wholesomeness and acuteness of his mind, 
he was probably learning more than he could 
have gathered from all the Jarratts in the Colony. 
For who can say that he was not more studious 
while flung prone upon his back, than if he had 
been bench fast in a schoolroom, thumbing a dull 
book?" 

The only difference, indeed, between Lincoln 
and Henry in their early boyhood training was in 
their method of absorbing knowledge. The one 
lay on the hearthstone, his elbows on the floor, 
his nose in his book, reading by the flickering 
firelight. The other lay in the open, staring up 
in the blue sky, studying Nature as she did her 
work around him; what he did not know about 
the beasts of the forest, the birds of the air, was 
not worth knowing. After all, Patrick Henry 



36 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

was just a normal boy, fond of horses, dogs, fishing 
and hunting; all this meant the freedom of wood 
and stream, of high-road and by-road. Freedom, 
indeed, seemed a part of this boy's very nature, 
and, as he stepped from youth to manhood, this 
love of freedom was more and more the keynote 
of his life. 

John Henry was not a rich man, and when his 
boys were old enough they were put out to work. 
Patrick, at fifteen, was clerk in a country store, 
where he stayed for a year. When he was six- 
teen, his father invested in a complete stock, and 
set him and his brother, William, up in business. 

These corner stores were quite indispensable 
in those early days. They were usually situated 
at the cross-roads, and thither came the planters 
and small farmers, the " redemptioners" and the 
slaves, to make their various purchases all char- 
acters to be studied — and this Patrick Henry 
certainly did, while he weighed sugar, drew mo- 
lasses, and measured off calico. Everything was 
discussed at the country store, as it is now in 
more modern days. Nothing pleased Patrick 
Henry better than to start a debate and watch the 
debaters. The lawyer in him delighted in getting 
the opinions of others without betraying his own. 
Naturally, he was not a successful storekeeper. 
It is told of him that one day he was lying at 
length upon a sack of salt, engaged in some deep 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 37 

discussion, when a customer entered and asked if 
he had any salt. " Just sold the last peck," said 
Patrick. Keen as he was in summing up charac- 
ter, it soon seemed that, after all, his customers 
got the better of him; they ran up bills which 
they never paid, "and within a year the firm of 
'Henry and Henry' went out of business." 

When he was eighteen, he fell in love with 
Sarah Shelton, and we have no doubt it was a 
romantic love affair, though very little record is 
left us beyond the fact that " she was an estimable 
woman," and her wedding dower was six negro 
slaves and three hundred acres of poor land called 
"Pine Slash." Here at nineteen he found him- 
self a married man, a farmer with scarcely enough 
to make ends meet, and for some years his life 
was that of a common laborer. 

"Sunburnt, sweaty, hard-handed, the man to 
whom the whole continent would by and by be 
listening, now swings the hoe as he grubs new 
ground, that a few more tobacco hills may be 
made for the coming harvest." 

Yet, after all, this life in the open was a gain in 
the richness of experience to such a man as Pat- 
rick Henry. His contact with the soil made him 
a son of the people, and prepared him to battle 
for their rights when the time came. But fate 
did not destine him for a farmer ; a disastrous fire 
destroyed his home and so impoverished him that 



38 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

he was forced once more to keep a store; but 
again he was unsuccessful. 

Six children came to him during these hard 
times, and though poverty looked in at the door, 
love did not jump out of the window. The young 
couple managed to pay pleasant visits to their 
neighbors, where there were dances and music, 
in which Henry delighted, he himself being an 
accomplished flute player. About this time he 
determined to study law, and here at last the 
remarkable powers of this young farmer came to 
the front; he was ready for examination in so 
short a time that it seems incredible. Some say 
it took him a month, some say six weeks ; at any 
rate, it was such an absurdly short course of 
study that the board of examiners at first re- 
fused to consider him as a candidate. 

Four prominent Virginians are named as the 
men to whom Henry first applied for a license: 
Peyton Randolph, John Randolph, George 
Wythe, and Robert C. Nicholas, all elegant 
gentlemen of the period, and no doubt a little 
astonished at the countrified, awkward appear- 
ance of the Hanover applicant, whose diffidence 
of speech and manner gave no promise of any- 
thing behind. But when these learned gentle- 
men began to put questions, and discussed 
legal points with him, they were even more 
astonished at the extent of his reading. Yet, 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 39 

in spite of this, he had much difficulty in 
obtaining the necessary signatures on his license; 
but he was successful at last, and rode happily 
home with the license in his pocket. 

From that time it was uphill work for this ob- 
scure lawyer, but little by little he gained a step 
toward the front, until, in a certain celebrated 
case known as the Parsons' Cause, Henry was 
engaged by what seemed at a glance to be the 
weaker side. It was really a case of the people 
against the Crown, for the government supported 
a certain tax which the clergy extorted from the 
people under the guise of an increase of salary — 
salaries in those days being paid in so many 
pounds of tobacco. 

Everything seemed to be going well for the 
preachers, when Patrick Henry was asked to 
argue on what was clearly the losing side. When 
he rose in court to speak, he was so abashed and 
gawky that his father, who was present, sank 
back in his seat ashamed of him. When he began 
to speak, his voice was low and faltering, but 
after a few moments it grew quite steady and 
clear, penetrating to every corner of the court- 
room. Someone has said: "With that voice of 
his, Patrick could make love in a corner, or call 
a hound a mile away," and his most effective 
weapons were always the pauses he made before 
a telling sentence. 



40 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

As his voice gained power, his slouching figure 
reared itself, and before long his genius had 
blazed forth and captured his hearers, and tears 
ran down his father's cheeks. "All the justices 
bent forward. Everyone now recognized the 
presence there of a great orator, and amid ac- 
clamation he won his case." He was borne on 
the shoulders of the excited people into the court- 
yard, and received ovation enough to turn his 
head. 

It would be interesting to trace in detail the 
life of a man, whose brilliant gift of speech and 
wonderful legal foresight made him a leader in his 
country's time of need; but we have only to do 
with that period of his life when his country 
called him. This began with the Stamp Act, in 
1765, which had brought forth the protest of all 
the Colonies. 

This same eventful year, Henry became a 
member of the House of Burgesses, where his 
eloquence soon brought him to the front and won 
for him the respect and admiration of all who 
heard him. And it was shortly after his election, 
in a very powerful speech denouncing the Stamp 
Act, that he, on that memorable day, uttered the 
protest of the people whom he represented, in a 
set of well-worded resolutions, plainly flinging the 
gauntlet of defiance in the face of the Mother 
Country. The Burgesses were aghast ; a violent 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 41 

debate arose, but Henry finally held the floor, 
though the battle of words lasted quite two days. 
Judge Paul Carrington, who was present, de- 
clared that on this occasion Henry's eloquence 
was " beyond all power of description." Then, of 
a sudden, in a voice and manner which startled 
even those who knew him best, he thundered 
forth : 

"Tarquin and Caesar had each his Brutus, 
Charles the First, his Cromwell, and George the 
Third — " He paused. " Treason!" cried the 
Speaker from his dais. ''Treason! Treason!" 
echoed a chorus of Burgesses. But Henry's 
pause was well considered; in no haste, but with 
impressive access of dignity, growing visibly 
taller, until he seemed the very embodiment of 
resolute manhood, he spoke his final words, 
"may profit by their example ! If this be treason 
— make the most of it." 

From that moment he became the great man of 
Virginia, just as Samuel Adams was the great man 
of Massachusetts. There was much in common 
between the two, but the fields in which they 
worked were very different. Massachusetts, 
from the very beginning, had been mutinous, and 
with the exception of a mere handful of loyalists, 
chiefly the followers of Governor Hutchinson, the 
people had been only too willing to listen to 
Adams's council. Sure of the fact that he was a 



42 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

sincere, incorruptible man, they had quickly 
recognized him as a leader. But not so in the 
royal province of Virginia. The best blood was 
for the King and his laws; the big landholders, 
Byrd, Spotswood, Fairfax, and others, held aloof 
in the House of Burgesses, and shook their heads 
over Henry's oratory. They preached from the 
text that the King can do no wrong, and it took 
many long years and bitter experience to convince 
them that they were mistaken. But when the 
King's unjust anger fell upon Boston; when 
British troops were stationed there; when there 
was a massacre of citizens; when its port was 
shut; and when, in course of events, the charter 
of the Colony was taken away, there arose such 
mighty men as Henry, Jefferson, and Washing- 
ton to rouse Virginia from her dreams. 

It chanced that at this time, sandwiched in 
between the violent Berkely and the treacherous 
Earl of Dunmore, a real man ruled Virginia in the 
King's name. This was Baron de Botetourt, 
who, through consideration, sympathy, and true 
kindliness, sought to hold Virginians to their 
allegiance. But he failed because Henry's voice 
filled the land, and Henry's finger pointed warn- 
ingly to the forfeited rights of Massachusetts. 

At length, when the King threatened to send 
the two "arch traitors" of Boston to England for 
trial which meant of course the Tower and the 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 43 

block, the House of Burgesses protested, and 
the members, in their resolutions, applauded 
Massachusetts for the stand she had taken, though 
they well knew that the Governor would rebuke 
and dismiss the body. But they did not always 
go back to their homes; they often reassembled 
in what was called the "Apollo" room of the 
Raleigh Tavern, just as the "Sons of Liberty" in 
Boston met at the Green Dragon Tavern. Ra- 
leigh Tavern had over its main entrance a leaden 
bust of Sir Walter Raleigh, and its "Apollo" 
room because so famous as a meeting-place for 
rebellious subjects, that it was nicknamed Fan- 
euil Hall of Virginia. 

Botetourt's death removed an obstacle from 
Henry's path, because good faith and courtesy 
had been the King's most powerful aid in pre- 
serving the Colonists' allegiance. With the 
coming of Dunmore, however, all was changed. 
The protesting Virginians were called "rebels," 
and treated with scant courtesy. Dunmore was 
coarse and cruel, and not a man of his word. No 
one did more to drive Virginia to her freedom than 
did this creature of the King, and the fact that his 
private secretary and chief adviser, Captain Foy, 
was a soldier, showed plainly that he feared re- 
sistence in Virginia — and in that he was not 
mistaken. One by one the Burgesses were won 
over, Richard Henry Lee, George Mason, Ed- 



44 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

mund Pendelton, Peyton Randolph, John Page, 
Thomas Nelson, and many others. 

Such was the state of affairs when the thrilling 
news of the Tea- Party reached Williamsburg, 
where the discontented and rebellious Burgesses 
were holding their secret meetings at Raleigh 
Tavern. 

In Williamsburg was the heart of the rebellion. 
It was built on the site of what, in the time of 
Bacon's rebellion, was known as the "Middle- 
Plantation." Although the capital of the prov- 
ince, it was little more than a handful of houses 
and a few straggling streets. Gloucester Street 
was the main thoroughfare, with the Old Capitol 
at one end, and William and Mary College at 
the other. The Old Capitol, a building of two 
stories, with a tall portico in front, was the 
scene of many stirring events, before and after 
Massachusetts used Boston Harbor as a teapot. 
Its walls reverberated with the thunder of 
Henry's Stamp Act speech. In the Council 
Chamber upstairs, the Burgesses sat, and it was 
the scene of their dismissal later on, and in 
the hall of the House, the famous "As- 
sembly" took place, given in honor of Lady 
Dunmore and her daughters, on the eve of the 
final collision. 

The Governor's Palace, situated on Palace 
Street, was a large building surrounded by pleas- 



THE ROYAL PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA 45 

ure grounds, and here the governors in turn held 
their miniature royal court. When the Burgesses 
sat in the Assembly, the little town of scattered 
houses became a brilliant centre of Virginia society. 
Even in the shadow of the coming Revolution, 
the seeming gayeties went on. His "Serene Ex- 
cellency" drove in gorgeous state to open the 
House of Burgesses, in one breath, and sternly 
dismiss them, in the other; but though the " reb- 
els" were ordered to leave the Capitol, they 
lingered for one night to pay their respectful 
homage to the Governor's Lady, in whose honor 
they were giving a ball. 

But beneath it all, a volcano was smouldering, 
for this was in May, 1774, and word had come that 
Parliament had voted, through the Boston Port 
Bill, to close the harbor of Boston after June 4, 
and the dismissal of the Burgesses was the result 
of their honest and outspoken indignation over 
this act. Then it was that Virginia came boldly 
forward as the staunch champion of Massachu- 
setts, resolving, when the dismissed Burgesses 
met in convention at Raleigh Tavern, "that an 
attack on Massachusetts is an attack on Vir- 
ginia, and recommending a General Congress, 
which at her call will declare the American Colo- 
nies independent of Great Britain." 

This was the first note of the Revolution 
sounded by Henry, though the convention never 



46 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

for one moment thought that the quarrel with 
the Mother Country would result in anything so 
serious as a separation. Yet in their midst sat two 
silent members whom destiny had chosen for the 
building of a new nation — one was Thomas Jef- 
ferson, who wrote our Declaration of Independ- 
ence, and the other was a country gentleman 
named Washington. 



CHAPTER III 

THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 

THE morning after the Boston Tea-Party, 
history tells us that Paul Revere was chosen 
by the Committee of Safety to carry the joyful 
tidings to New York and Philadelphia. In 
both big towns the excitement was intense, and 
both sent messages to Boston, promising support 
in time of need. New York, spurred on by the 
daring example, turned its attention to the in- 
coming ships, all laden with the forbidden tea. 
And they had trouble enough on their hands, 
these busy New York people, with a thousand 
commercial interests tugging at their respectable 
coat-tails. The town, with its great water ways, 
great even in those early days of fourteen thou- 
sand inhabitants, owed its ever increasing pros- 
perity to its brisk trade up and down the coast, 
and across the seas with England, Holland, and 
France, and for New York to take a decided stand 
as Massachusetts was doing, meant true patriot- 
ism indeed. 

The fortunes of trade had thrown into the 
Province of New York men of many nationalities ; 

47 



48 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

especially was this so in the town itself, its beau- 
tiful harbor being a temptation to wandering 
mariners. The Dutch inhabitants were by far 
the most numerous and the most prosperous. 
Even when the very memory of Peter Stuyvesant 
had faded, and the English Governor Andros took 
possession in the King's name, the Dutchmen 
held their own, through their breweries and their 
fur trade, living after their own fashion in their 
quaint houses with their tiled roofs, quaffing their 
ale and ruling their families as if they were in 
dear old Amsterdam, before Henry Hudson roused 
them from their sleek stupidity and dragged 
them across the ocean to a new life of adventure. 
Washington Irving has given us a humorous 
picture of Old Father Knickerbocker, the rotund, 
red-nosed, pipe-smoking, beer-drinking Dutch- 
man of the past. A caricature surely, yet — as 
all caricatures must be, to be good — a faithful 
likeness. 

The Province of New York was, in reality, 
a fringe of settlements on the Hudson River, 
Manhattan Island, and Long Island; back of this 
fringe was a waste of trackless forest land, the 
land of mountains and ravines, where lurked vast 
hordes of Indians, driven from the water front 
by the daring mariners, to whom, for a song, the 
simple savages had sold their birthright. The 
foolish white man, sowing the seeds of cunning 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 49 

and distrust, had pushed the red man into a 
mightier stronghold among the crags and cliffs — 
but not before he had learned the use of firearms, 
and had learned also the lesson of killing for 
revenge. 

With this menace at their back, it is no wonder 
that the territory of New York grew in length 
rather than in breadth, though, as early as 1660, 
a handful of dauntless pioneers, led by one Arendt 
Van Curler or "Brother Corlaer" as the Iroquois 
Indians called him, travelled up to Albany, 
through what is known as Clinton Avenue, 
until reaching Norman's Kill they struck a forest 
trail which led them to their future home on a low 
plateau on the banks of the Mohawk. Here, on 
the site of an old Indian village, the fourteen fam- 
ilies began to build their houses, a mill, a church, 
and palisades for protection. This tiny village 
was the beginning of what is now known as 
Schenectady, and was the brave attempt to 
open the Mohawk Valley to civilization, by es- 
tablishing free trade with the Indians. It was 
"a noble episode" in the story of American free- 
dom, for on this ground the sturdy Dutch fought 
for the free-holding of land. 

German immigrants next followed the Dutch 
settlers into this valley; they were brought over 
by the English government to settle on the fron- 
tiers, and beat off encroaching Indians, Spaniards 



50 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

and Frenchmen; but the war-like life they led 
made them sturdy in the assertion of their own 
rights. Riots and fights ensued between the 
Germans and their English masters, who re- 
garded them as slaves, and their champion, 
Leisler, was hanged, by order of a drunken Eng- 
lish Governor. But his name stands as the " first 
American rebel," and has been handed down to 
us as the name of a martyr rather than a male- 
factor. 

After this, the Germans in great numbers set- 
tled all along the Mohawk Valley, pushing out 
westward as they went, but their English masters 
still oppressed them, and they found it impossible 
to raise sheep or stock in that fine grazing country. 
The honor of introducing fine sheep and other live 
stock in the Mohawk Valley fell to Sir William 
Johnson, whose knowledge of Indians and their 
customs made him a " blood brother" to the terri- 
ble Six Nations, who were, by might and right, the 
rulers of the Valley. It is due to the courage and 
integrity of that prince of pioneers that the little 
fringe of Colonies, upon the coast of what we call 
New York, grew and flourished in those early 
days. 

Young William Johnson was an Irishman, and 
the most romantic of reasons drove him to seek 
his fortune on the other side of the ocean. He 
was born in Smithtown, County Meath, near 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 51 

Dublin, in 1715. His mother was Anne Warren, 
whose two brothers rose high in the English navy, 
and his father was one Christopher Johnson, of 
whom there was little known or said. Johnson's 
good blood evidently came from his mother's 
side, who, we are told, could trace an ancient 
and honorable lineage. When he was twenty- 
two, he fell in love with a girl whom his parents 
were opposed to his marrying. Though a man 
himself, it seems that he bowed to their will in 
this matter; but within him stirred a restlessness 
which made him look beyond his home for some 
new channel for his energies. His uncle, Cap- 
tain Peter Warren, on his return from a cruise, 
offered his nephew a position on the next voyage. 
He had bought land in the fertile Mohawk Val- 
ley, and, as he had a vast estate of fifteen thou- 
sand acres, he needed an agent to take charge of 
his property ; so this afforded the love-sick young 
Irishman not only the prospect of adventure, but 
of great wealth. He went at once to New York 
to visit his kinspeople, who lived in a fine old 
mansion — the very one in which, many years 
later, Washington said farewell to his generals. 

This uncle of William Johnson had married 
Susan De Lancey, the oldest daughter of Stephen 
De Lancey of New York, one of the leading 
families in Colonial social life; so the young Irish- 
man, tall and strong, with his fine figure and 



52 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

jovial temper, soon adapted himself to the life 
about him, and it did not take him long to dis- 
cover that the young men in this new country 
were fired with the one ambition — to get rich. In 
Johnson's mind, too, this became a fixed idea, 
added to which was the explorer's instinct and 
love of adventure; and so, after whiling away 
many weeks in the social gayeties of New York, 
Johnson set out to the land of the Mohawk 
Valley, going by sloop up the Hudson, towards 
Albany. 

He found Albany a " log city" with a few smart 
brick houses, a good place to lay in supplies for a 
journey in the wilderness. Then through the 
pine-barrens — probably with some fleet-footed 
Indian guide — he took a day's tramp to Sche- 
nectady, with its gabled Dutch-tiled houses, de- 
noting comfort within, while the high palisades 
round the flourishing settlement betokened dan- 
ger without. Through the north gate of this 
palisade, Johnson picked his way across the wild 
country, sleeping each night at the hospitable 
manor houses on his way, until at last he reached 
Warren's Bush or Warren's Burg, the name of the 
farm which his uncle had placed in his charge. 

It was a beautiful, fertile land — this Mohawk 
country in which he found himself, so named from 
the chief tribe of the Iroquois, who lived there. 
These were the happy pioneer days, before pillage 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 53 

and bloodshed darkened the soil. White men's 
houses and Indian villages nestled close together; 
often there were Indian cabins inside of the white 
men's fortifications, but in the Indian palisaded 
towns, hundreds, and sometimes thousands, 
herded together; noble-looking creatures — these 
red-skinned children of the forest — until the white 
man gave them "strong waters," put firearms in 
their hands, and planted hatred in their hearts; 
then they became the demons that made the 
beautiful mountain fastnesses of Revolutionary 
New York spots of terror and devastation. 

But when the young Irish settler came among 
them, he found the savages simple and childlike, 
and his warm, genial nature planted in their hearts 
a love and trust that grew with the passing years. 
Romance hovered around the sturdy frame of this 
Son of Erin, and peace rested on the sunlit valley 
of the Mohawk, while the young agent carved a 
vast fortune for himself, with his herds of cattle 
and the ever profitable fur trade. The story of 
his life and of his intercourse with the Indians 
might well be called one of the Sagas of America, 
but we can only weave the gleam of color that he 
lent to history into our story of New York's 
struggle for independence during those dark days 
when Sir William Johnson slept in his quiet grave, 
and the hated Butlers incited the hitherto peace- 
loving tribes, to the foulest deeds. 



54 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

The Butlers lived on the adjoining estate and 
as Lieutenant John Butler was also an Irishman, 
the two landowners soon became fast friends, 
their families growing up side by side ; for William 
Johnson mended his broken heart by speedily 
marrying Catharine Wilsenberg, the daughter of a 
German Patroon. A Patroon in America was the 
name given to certain wealthy settlers who wished 
to rise in the social scale, by the purchase of land, 
and lived upon it in the style of landed proprie- 
tors, somewhat similar to the baronets of England. 
The first Patroon of New York was one Kiliaen Van 
Rensselaer, the head of a powerful family, whose 
name still holds its own in New York state; but 
in course of time the Patroons grew so powerful 
that Peter Stuyvesant abolished the order. 

After Sir William's death, his son, John, suc- 
ceeded to his lands and titles, and as the political 
fight between England and the Colonies waxed 
keener, Sir John ranged himself openly on the 
side of the Tories, and, using his great influence 
among the credulous Indians of that section, won 
them completely over to the English side. The 
Butlers — father and two sons, Walter and John 
— also swore allegiance to the King, and this 
handful of men, with their hordes of murdering 
savages and unprincipled bands of Tory regulars, 
for many years of the Revolution, ravaged the 
beautiful country from Albany, far beyond the 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 55 

present site of Saratoga, and butchered and 
burned wherever they went. 

No wonder the thriving Colony stretched along 
the coast, when preparing for the great struggle, 
thought shudderingly of this Mohawk Valley, 
where lurked so many deadly enemies, and es- 
pecially was this the case among the dwellers at 
Albany, for the French and Indian War, so 
lately brought to a victorious close by the English 
victory, had given the little town a bitter taste of 
what war really was. Then the English troops 
had made it their rendezvous, and the steady, 
church-going people were astounded at the rough 
behavior of the men, and society was scandalized 
at the dances and plays that were produced 
under their aristocratic noses. Now, when the 
English soldiers gave way to the Continentals, the 
danger was even greater, for the red-coats took to 
the woods and the Indians, gathering force to 
give them a blow from behind, while the people 
of Albany made fast her gates and called their 
wise men together for council. 

On the banks of the Hudson River a few old 
families had settled, buying large tracts of land 
and gradually building up an aristocracy of their 
own, just as the landed proprietors did in Vir- 
ginia. Their property bordered on the domain 
of Sir William Johnson and his Six Nations, and 
gave them a knowledge of the state of the country 



56 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

which proved invaluable in conducting the border 
warfare of the Revolution. 

In viewing the patriotic feeling in New York 
during those momentous days before the Dec- 
laration, it must be borne in mind that, unlike 
Virginia and Massachusetts, the backbone of this 
Colony was Dutch. There was not that same 
feeling of revolt against a land which was cer- 
tainly not regarded by the Colonists as the 
"Mother Country"; but the same feeling which 
made them rebel at the tyranny of Sir Peter 
Stuyvesant made them look with suspicion on 
their new English masters, and send messages of 
sympathy to Massachusetts in distress, — in short, 
held them ready at any time to take their stand 
for justice. 

Patriotism glowed with even heat in New York ; 
there were no brilliant leaders, as in Massachu- 
setts and Virginia, simply because there were no 
outraged people to lead. England's wrath, de- 
scending on the devoted head of Massachusetts, 
miscalculated the character of the fine old Dutch 
stock in New York; indeed, the Colonists them- 
selves had only submitted to the English rule as 
the best way of extending their trade, but the 
Boston Port Bill opened their eyes and made 
them tremble for their own port. 

During the Stamp Act struggle, the people of 
New York were still loyal to the King, though a 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 57 

few began to speak of independence, and the 
"Sons of Liberty" secretly organized. But when 
Great Britain placed a strong military force in 
New York for no apparent reason, and insisted 
upon money being raised for their maintenance, 
the Assembly rebelled and was dissolved. This 
was an act of tyranny levelled at New York itself, 
and William Livingston, a worthy descendant of 
the founder of the family, wrote these prophetic 
words : 

"Courage, Americans! Liberty, religion, and 
science are on the wing to these shores. The 
finger of God points out a mighty empire to 
your sons. . . . The land we possess is the 
gift of Heaven to our fathers, and Divine Prov- 
idence seems to have decreed it to our latest 
posterity. The day dawns in which the founda- 
tion of this mighty empire is to be laid by the 
establishment of a regular American Constitu- 
tion. All that has been done hitherto seems to 
be little beside the collection of materials for this 
glorious fabric. 'Tis time to put them together. 
The transfer of the European family is so vast, 
and our growth so swift, that before seven years 
roll over our heads, the first stone must be laid." 

So spoke a prophet in 1767; in 1774 the first 
stone had been laid and New York had cast in her 
fortunes with the other Colonies. All honor to 
the true blue old Dutch blood and brawn of 



58 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

our Revolutionary heroes! A Livingston signed 
the Declaration of Independence — a Schuyler 
served his country in many a battle, and the 
others fell into line when the time came. 

Nothing stirs the spirit of rebellion more than 
an armed force; and, however the peace-loving 
citizens of New York might try to ignore the 
fact, they were most assuredly under military 
rule. There were frequent skirmishes between 
the soldiers and the people to keep the bad feel- 
ing in ferment, but still the thinking men hoped 
and trusted to the British Government to find 
out for itself the many mistakes it was making. 

New York was soon divided into three distinct 
parties: the Sons of Liberty who counciled re- 
bellion against England's unjust measures; the 
Tories, devoted heart and soul to the cause of 
Mother England, while between these two op- 
posing parties was the calm-thinking party com- 
posed of men of wealth and influence, unwilling 
to throw themselves recklessly into a quarrel, 
unless Great Britain left them no other way of 
maintaining their independence. Among these 
last, as members of the New York Assembly, we 
find such names as Schuyler, Van Cortlandt, 
Clinton, Ten Broeck, and Livingston. It was the 
staunchness of this moderate party that became 
"the bone and sinew" of the Revolution. 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 59 

There were but few men, however, whose voices 
were heard above the fierce mutterings of general 
discontent. One of these was Colonel Philip 
Schuyler, who won his title in the recent French 
and Indian War; and another was Alexander 
Hamilton, whose voice was first raised at a 
monster meeting of the "Sons of Liberty," and 
attracted everyone by his remarkable eloquence. 
Another was John Lamb, an intimate friend of 
Paul Revere, and to whom that busy Patriot 
wrote from time to time, describing the situation 
in Boston, while George Clinton, Gouverneur 
Morris, Richard Montgomery, and a host of 
others stood ready to act at a moment's notice. 

From the time the Stamp Act was repealed, to 
the closing of Boston Harbor, the British soldiers 
in New York had been a constant menace, and the 
special bone of contention seemed to be a liberty 
pole. Just after the Act was repealed, in 1766, 
on June 4, the anniversary of the King's birthday, 
the enthusiasm of the Colonists floated the 
English flag and erected a pole bearing the words, 
"The King, Pitt, and Liberty," on a shield at the 
top. This was done to show their gratitude to 
England, but the soldiers, imagining that they 
had set it up as a symbol of triumph, ruthlessly 
tore it down. Another pole was immediately 
set up by the indignant citizens; this, too, was cut 
down. A third was put up, and that was cut 



60 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

down after a lapse of time, driving the citizens to 
a state of fury. They then erected a fourth pole 
and fastened it with iron braces. This seemed to 
defy destruction, for it stood until January, 1770, 
when again the soldiers pulled it down and sawed 
it into pieces. 

This produced a riot, which the Mayor checked 
by ordering the soldiers to their barracks; the 
soldiers, in their turn, charged upon the unarmed 
citizens, and a bloody fight ensued. This oc- 
currence took place two months before the Boston 
Massacre. It was called the Battle of Golden 
Hill, and the scene of the encounter was New 
York City, on the present site of John Street, 
near William ; it was supposed to be the very first 
bloodshed in the War of the Revolution. But the 
determined people conquered in the end. They 
erected a fifth pole, much taller than the others, 
with the single word, "Liberty," inscribed upon 
it, and this — for some unknown reason — was al- 
lowed to stand. 

So New York, in spite of its strong leaning 
towards the King, was having troubles of its own 
long before the Boston Tea-Party stirred the 
American Colonies. After that event, however, 
there was a settled spirit of resistence in all state 
affairs, especially in New York, and added to this 
feeling was one of conscious strength, which 
Robert Livingston, the second of the name, then 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 6l 

an old man with a son and grandson of the same 
name, put into words: " It is intolerable," he said, 
"that a continent like America should be gov- 
erned by a little island three thousand miles away. 
America must and will be independent." 

Governor Tryon now held a despotic sway over 
the Colony, but, in the Spring of 1774, he con- 
sidered the situation in the Colonies to be so 
critical that he went to England to report per- 
sonally concerning recent events. It was during 
his absence that the Continental Congress as- 
sembled in Philadelphia, on September 5, 1774, 
and New York was represented by Philip Liv- 
ingston, John Alsop, Isaac Low, and James Du- 
ane; in 1775, the other delegates added to the list 
were George Clinton, Francis Lewis, Lewis 
Morris, Robert R. Livingston, and Philip Schuy- 
ler. Among these names we recognize, not only 
the familiar Dutch families, but those of English 
origin as well; for little by little the spirit of 
liberty was taking hold of all the nationalities, 
which from the very beginning have made the 
port of New York a landing-place. 

The first Continental Congress adjourned on 
October 26, 1774. The following April, the 
first blow for independence had resulted in the 
Battles of Lexington and Concord. Hancock 
and Samuel Adams had made their escape to 
New York, and were on their way to Philadel- 



62 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

phia, where the Second Congress assembled on 
May 10. This was the Congress which hatched 
our Declaration of Independence, and gave us 
Washington to lead us to victory. This same 
Congress unanimously appointed Colonel Philip 
Schuyler as Major-General, and Richard Mont- 
gomery as Brigadier-General, both from New 
York, to serve under him. 

Philip Schuyler was the man best fitted for the 
important post of Major-General. He was rich 
and influential, of the highest integrity, and his 
military experience had embraced also an almost 
unequalled knowledge of that wild region of lakes 
and mountains, the home of the Six Nations, of 
Sir John Johnson, who was steeping his father's 
honored name in blood, and of Walter Butler, 
known as the " white savage," whose deeds of 
violence were unnumbered. 

Philip Schuyler was the grandson of Captain 
Johannes Schuyler, and the son of Johannes, Jr., 
Indian Commissioner, and Mayor of Albany; 
he was born November u, 1733. His mother 
was Cornelia Van Cortlandt, — so pure Dutch 
blood flowed in the boy's veins. His father died 
when he was eight years old, and he was brought 
up entirely by his mother, living part of his life 
at the house in Albany, and partly at "The 
Flatts," the name of the Manor House of the 
Schuyler family, and the home of the famous 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 63 

"Aunt Schuyler" who has figured so much 
in Colonial and Revolutionary history. Her 
"model" household was celebrated in its time, 
and here the boy had the best moral and physical 
training. He could shoot, fish, handle a horse or 
a canoe, sail a sloop, and, best of all, he had no 
fear of the forest paths ; for, from the time of the 
first Peter Schuyler, the Indianshad been friendly. 

The Iroquois tribes had called him "Quider," 
because of their peculiar mode of speaking. 
They never closed the lips, using only guttural 
or vowel sounds, so, naturally "Peter" was an 
impossibility to pronounce, and they used "Qui- 
der" instead. The memory of "Quider" was 
handed down among them through generations, 
and was the secret of Schuyler's great influence 
among them. 

He was more fortunate than most Colonial 
schoolboys. He had a Huguenot tutor until he 
was fifteen, when he was sent to boarding school 
at New Rochelle, the home of the Huguenot 
refugees, and placed in charge of Reverend Mr. 
Stouppe, pastor of the French Protestant Church. 
His favorite study was mathematics, an excellent 
study in its higher branches, for a future general ; 
and here also he learned the French language — 
a rare accomplishment. 

John Jay was also a pupil in the same house, 
and he tells us that the fare provided by Mrs. 



64 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Stouppe was starvation diet, and that he often 
went hungry to bed "in a room so ill protected 
from the winds of Winter, that he awoke to find 
the snow drifted upon the floor." Schuyler no 
doubt shared this experience, for at New Ro- 
chelle he had his first attack of rheumatic gout. 
This first illness, when he was a mere boy, kept 
him housed for a year, and all through his mili- 
tary career the least exposure made him a pris- 
oner, whether in camp or at home. 

Social gayeties fell to the portion of Philip 
Schuyler, and soon after he had won distinction 
in the French and Indian War he married "sweet 
Kitty Van Rensselaer," like himself descended 
from the first Philip Schuyler. He and his pretty 
army bride showed great kindness to the wounded 
French prisoners in Albany. 

After the war, Schuyler visited in England, 
having many adventures on the way. On his 
return he found that his young wife had been 
busy in his absence, and, as there were many 
skilled carpenters whom the war had driven to 
Albany, she had built, as a surprise to her hus- 
band, a beautiful Colonial mansion on the side of 
the hill, half a mile south of the town. Later, 
Schuyler tried experiments in agriculture at 
Saratoga, and, in 1767, built a large house 
there, which became the summer home of the 
family. 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 65 

At the first session of the Continental Congress, 
Philip Schuyler sat listening to the brilliant ora- 
tory and modestly holding himself in the back- 
ground. The men of action were not the speak- 
ers; even George Washington — his magnificent 
figure towering above his colleagues — sat silent 
while events were shaping about him. The dis- 
cussions were naturally concerning the army, and 
after Washington was chosen Commander-in- 
Chief, Schuyler received his appointment as 
Major-General, along with Artemus Ward, then 
in command at Boston, Israel Putnam, the Con- 
necticut hero, and Charles Lee, the brilliant 
English adventurer, "glib of tongue and worth- 
less" as it proved. Accordingly, on June 21, 
1775, George Washington, Philip Schuyler, and 
Charles Lee, rode out of Philadelphia, journey- 
ing northward. They were met in Newark by 
Montgomery, who had just received his ap- 
pointment as Brigadier-General, and escorted 
by him to New York, just as the British man-of- 
war, with Governor Tryon on board, was sighted. 
It was strange the two arrivals should come 
almost at the same moment, and the people, 
with their divided feelings, had a hard part 
to play. 

Washington appeared first, riding down Broad- 
way with Schuyler and Montgomery; and he 
received the proper welcome from the assembled 



66 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Patriots. In the evening, Governor Tryon 
landed, and he, too, was escorted through the 
city with due honor. Schuyler had once been a 
personal friend of the Governor, but those dark 
days broke many friendships. Washington 
passed on to Cambridge to take command of 
the army, and Schyuler was left to face the dif- 
ficult problem of New York, which, while at that 
time one of the smaller Colonies, was, for military 
movements, the most important of all, for it 
separated New England from New Jersey, Mary- 
land, Virginia, and the Carolinas. British forces 
held the Port of New York; the Colonists had 
not a ship to protect it; the English fleets could 
enter and land their troops. The Colony itself 
was divided in its sentiments; with all the dis- 
tinguished names on the Patriots' list, there 
were numbers, of high social standing and un- 
questioned ability, who either held aloof or were 
loyal to the King. 

So, a great responsibility rested on the shoul- 
ders of Philip Schuyler, and the fact that the 
name is honored to-day in the history of New 
York goes far to prove how valiantly he served 
for liberty. A man, whose very nature called 
for peace, whose health protested against the 
dangers of camp life, whose wealth and influence 
could have been used in other ways, sacrificed 
himself at his country's call, playing his part 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 67 

with dignity, even though his enemies succeeded 
in pulling him from his high place. 

Unlike Schuyler in every respect, yet inti- 
mately associated with him in after years, a 
flashing little figure darts upon the scene. The 
pigmy giant, Alexander Hamilton, a student of 
King's College, cast in his lot with the Patriots, 
and this man, with the little body and the big 
mind, has ever since scintillated through the 
pages of our history. Nobody knows just who 
he was, save that he arrived in New York from 
Santa Cruz, in the West Indies, when quite a 
boy, and, through the interest of a Presby- 
terian clergyman, Reverend Hugh Knox, was 
provided with funds enough to secure an ed- 
ucation. 

He was born on the little island of Nevis, one 
of the West Indies, but his mother died soon 
after, and his father, having disappeared, the 
child was taken by relatives in Santa Cruz. 
W T hen he was twelve years old, he was placed in a 
merchant's counting-house to earn his living, at 
a time when most boys were thinking of their 
games and their holidays. At the age of twelve, 
he wrote to a friend : 

"I contemn the grovelling condition of a 
clerk. I would willingly risk my life — though 
not my character — to exalt my station : ... 
I wish there was a war!" 



68 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

His wish was granted before he was many 
years older, but in the meantime there was much 
work for Alexander Hamilton to do. He thirsted 
above all for the education which his kind friend, 
Doctor Knox, was willing to give him, but in the 
meantime his restless young mind drank in all 
the literature on which he could lay his hands. 
Pope and Plutarch were his favorite authors and 
when not reading he made much progress in 
composition. It was his vivid description of a 
hurricane in the West Indies that attracted at- 
tention, and those interested in him decided that 
he deserved greater opportunities than a West 
Indian counting-house, and, when he was fifteen, 
funds were provided to send him to the Colonies. 
He reached Boston in October, 1772, and from 
there he went straight to New York, where letters 
from Doctor Knox provided him with some ex- 
cellent advisers. It was at their suggestion that 
he went to a grammar school at Elizabethtown to 
"brush up" his studies and prepare for college. 
At the end of a year's time, so well did he work, 
he was ready for college. His first choice was 
Princeton, but as he wished to rush through at 
top intellectual speed, the rules of the college 
would not let him in. So he entered King's 
College in New York (now Columbia) where he 
could study as fast as he wished. He employed 
a private tutor to help him, and threw himself 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 69 

heart and soul into the work. He gathered up 
knowledge in huge quantities, and he was, even 
at sixteen, deeply interested in the studies of 
finance, government and politics, and his chief 
recreation was his afternoon walk under the 
shadow of the trees on Batteau Street plunged 
in thought and talking eagerly to himself. Every 
one noticed the small slight, boy with his dark 
skin and deep-set eyes that seemed to be ever 
looking into the future. 

When the first signs of the coming struggle 
touched New York — Hamilton, who had no pre- 
judices and no wrongs to avenge, was uncertain 
on which side to place his allegiance, but after 
careful study of the issues he decided rightly and 
wisely to cast in his lot with the oppressed Col- 
onies, and once his decision was made he was 
faithful to the end. As soon as he was sure of 
himself he set to work to rouse New York from 
its lethargy. 

A mass meeting was held in the fields on July 
6, 1774, presided over by well-known Patriots. 
Hamilton, who was listening eagerly to the 
orators, was suddenly filled with the idea, that 
he could tell that crowd some things the speakers 
had left out, so he made his way to the platform, 
this slender sapling of a boy, and, after a few 
embarrassed moments, began to talk as if in- 
spired. He gave them none of the high flown 



70 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

oratory of the day, but hard, clear, sensible facts, 
presented in wonderful English, every word of 
which contained sound reason and clear logic; he 
carried the crowd with him although a stranger 
and a mere boy. 

From that moment Alexander Hamilton's 
course was clear and all his talents, literary and 
military, were used in defence of his adopted 
country. The Tories and the Patriots assailed 
each other in pamphlets long before they put 
the question to the sword. When the Tories 
assailed the Continental Congress by the writing 
of some very clever pamphlets, Hamilton replied 
to them. At first, of course, his name was not 
known, but as the controversy proceeded the great 
ability of the author was praised on all sides, and, 
when his identity was revealed, he sprang at once 
into fame. He continued his arguments against 
England in all the newspapers until war was de- 
clared. He spoke at public meetings and joined 
a volunteer corps commanded by Major Fleming, 
nor did he spare him from hard military training. 
Law and order, however, were uppermost in his 
mind and though he belonged to the "Sons of 
Liberty" and was present at all their meetings, 
his voice was often raised with much effect to 
quell rioting, and on^one occasion he was able 
to save the president of King's College, Doctor 
Cooper, an ardent Tory, from the violence of a 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 7 1 

mob. Hamilton liked, above all things, to "play 
fair," and his self-restraint and bravery were re- 
markable in lawless times like this ; the combina- 
tion was rare in one so young, and so enthusiastic. 

Early in 1776, when Hamilton was just nine- 
teen, a company of artillery was raised in New 
York, and the young collegian applied for the 
command. His examination showed him quite 
fit for the position, and for once, youth was no 
drawback, although at his age most boys were 
still in school or college. 

The artillery company showed for the work of 
its brilliant captain, who was fortunate enough 
to attract the attention of General Nathanael 
Greene, who was so impressed with him that he 
introduced him to Washington, which meant 
that he was in the line for promotion. In the 
disastrous Battle of Long Island, he distinguished 
himself in the masterly retreat by which Washing- 
ton saved his army. All the way up the Hudson, 
Hamilton was conspicuous, for his bravery, even 
offering to storm Fort Washington, though Wash- 
ington would not consent to such a daring act. 
But he watched the young Captain through the 
terrible marching through New Jersey, and, at 
the close of the campaign, he was appointed one 
of Washington's aides with the rank of Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel, on March 1, 1777, when he was 
scarcely twenty years old. 



72 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Hamilton wisely accepted the post, though he 
might have gained higher rank by staying in the 
field. As a member of the military household he 
had varied duties, and, while he had no special 
command of his own, he took part in all the battles 
in which the army was engaged — always gaining 
honor and distinction. His principal work was 
the General's enormous correspondence and Ham- 
ilton's literary ability peculiarly fitted him for 
this post. 

His confidential position on the General's 
staff brought him in close contact with all the 
great men of the day, and best of all it procured 
him the undying friendship of General Philip 
Schuyler, whose daughter, Elizabeth, became his 
wife, thus cementing the bond between the two 
men, and giving to Hamilton the social position 
which his obscure birth had denied him. 

Hamilton was sent by Washington to seek 
reinforcements from General Gates, who had just 
won the victory over Burgoyne in the North. 
As a matter of fact, it was General Schuyler whose 
admirable discipline had paved the way for this 
victory, but for some unknown reason Congress 
removed him from his command just before the 
decisive battle, putting Gates in his stead. 
Washington, as the superior officer of Gates, had 
a right to ask for reinforcements — indeed to 
command them — but he did not think it wise to 



THE PART NEW YORK PLAYED 73 

offend Gates who, being at that time very popu- 
lar with the Northern Colonies, might make it 
uncomfortable for the Commander-in-Chief should 
there be any trouble. Hamilton proved himself, 
in this instance, quite a diplomat, and was used 
by Washington for many other similar, important 
missions. He also had his hands full during the 
exciting days following Arnold's treason; he not 
only saw Mrs. Arnold's prostration over the 
flight of her husband, but he spent much time 
with poor ill-fated Andre. His kind heart in- 
duced him to intercede with Washington — while 
reason told him how vain was the effort. 

He spent four years on Washington's staff — 
and then the two parted in a quarrel. There 
may have been other things behind the slight 
cause given in various biographies. Washington 
had sent for Hamilton, who delayed in answering 
the summons; the General was displeased; he met 
the young officer at the head of the stairs and told 
him that to keep him waiting was a mark of disre- 
spect. Hamilton answered, "I am not conscious 
of it, sir, but since you have thought it, we part." 

Washington was right, Hamilton was wrong in 
the one-sided quarrel that ensued. He would not 
let the friendship die though Hamilton was no 
longer his aide. Hamilton went back into the 
army and covered himself with glory at York- 
town, under his General's admiring eyes. 



74 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

After the war, he studied law, married, and 
then began to pave the way for his brilliant po- 
litical career. 

Hamilton's greatest work was the revision and 
rewriting of our Constitution, at a time when the 
new-born states quarreled and quibbled over 
every clause. His grasp, too, of the financial 
side of the problem turned all eyes towards him; 
when President Washington was selecting his 
cabinet, Hamilton was made Secretary of the 
Treasury, and ably did he fulfill his trust. 

The career of this wonderful man, who came 
like a meteor and went like a fallen star, belongs 
alike to the history of New York and of America. 
His bravery won him high places, and he may be 
justly claimed by New York as one of the mighty 
architects of the Nation. 

New York, indeed, had a difficult part to play 
in the Revolution ; her heroes fought not only the 
ambushed Tories and Six Nations, and guarded 
the high seas from the British fleets, but they 
spurred on those who, for one reason or another, 
held back; and, above all, they succeeded in time 
in overcoming the prejudice of their New England 
neighbors, by joining with them, heart and soul, 
in the great struggle for liberty. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 

WHY Philadelphia should have been chosen 
as the rallying place for the protesting 
Colonies it is hard to understand, unless the 
reason lay in the fact that it was easy of access. 
Philadelphia, and indeed the entire Colony of 
Pennsylvania, had as yet entertained no idea of 
foreswearing allegiance to England. Of all the 
Colonies, it was probably the most tranquil, for 
it was born in peace, though the man who bought 
it, had lived a turbulent life for the sake of peace. 

William Penn was thirty-six years old when 
King Charles II gave over to him, in fee simple, a 
large tract of land in the New World. Penn 
proposed to establish in this country a colony 
where all people should obey the dictates of their 
consciences without fear of punishment. Penn 
himself was a Quaker, a sect newly risen in Eng- 
land, who believed in purity and simplicity of 
living which was much scoffed at in the corrupt 
court of the Merry Monarch. 

The Quakers, or Friends as they preferred to 
be called, had just come into England when Penn 

75 



76 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

was a young college student; and for a peace- 
loving sect they made much trouble and commo- 
tion — their fixed rule being not to do what other 
people did, while at the same time they did a 
great many things which other people would not 
do. To say the least, the Quakers were very 
moral; but one could scarcely call them a re- 
ligious sect, because they openly renounced all 
forms of worship, while many little peculiarities 
marked their intercourse with each other and 
with the world. They sprang chiefly from the 
lower classes, and they preached their belief 
wherever they could get a hearing — in taverns, 
in the streets, in the fields — and the crowds, who 
stopped to listen, stayed to jeer. They gave out 
prophecies and warnings of doom in a monotonous 
voice, and they trembled as they spoke; and so, 
because of this, or perhaps because George Fox 
bade the magistrates tremble at the word of the 
Lord, they were called Quakers. 

They were very loud and unruly, interrupting 
church service and finding fault with the preach- 
ers; and if there was one thing both Churchmen 
and Puritans hated more than each other, it was 
the Quakers. Even the Quaker women preached 
and took the part of men, and many became al- 
most insane in their efforts to show what they 
did not believe. They did not believe in 
baptism or communion; they did not believe in 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 77 

the Trinity; they did not believe entirely in the 
Bible; they did not believe in original sin; they 
did not believe in churches, and they had no use 
for priests and clergymen who accepted pay for 
their services. They called churches "priest 
houses" or " steeple houses." The Church of 
Christ was, in their minds, a spiritual idea. They 
were guided entirely by what they called the 
"inward light," which was given by God to 
everyone who came into the world. This "inner 
light" — shed upon the conscience — enlightened 
and assisted it. 

Their worship was peculiar; they sat silent in 
their meetings, till someone was moved by the 
spirit to pray or preach. Sometimes a meeting 
would be conducted in silence from beginning to 
end. This silence cultivated the "inward light," 
and thereby developed the soul. Two friends 
could hold in this way a silent meeting together. 
The Quakers never took an oath in court, because 
the scriptures commanded, "Swear not at all." 
They also refused to remove their hats in the 
court-room or in the presence of important people. 
They used thee and thou, at that time only used 
by servants and inferiors. 

The Quakers opposed everything that dis- 
turbed this habit of contemplation. All games 
and amusements, any exciting enterprises were 
forbidden. Therefore, as a general rule, the 



78 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Quakers kept away from politics. But in the 
Colony of Pennsylvania this rule could not hold, 
for the Quakers under William Penn were in 
control of the government. 

The Penns could no more keep out of politics 
than they could forget their names. Admiral 
Penn, the father of William, changed his politics 
with the shifting rulers. He served Charles I 
faithfully; then he veered with the winds, which 
swelled his sails, and served Cromwell quite as 
faithfully, though secretly he was plotting for 
the return of Charles II, offering to turn over 
the fleet to him in his exile. Though Cromwell 
knew of this, he still retained the able seaman, 
and at the Restoration Charles II rewarded him 
with a high place in the navy. 

The grant of land to William Penn was in part 
payment for these past services of his father, and 
was probably the secret of the tolerance shown 
to the fanatical boy when he joined the Quakers 
and made himself generally disagreeable. He 
followed, as well as he could, in the footsteps of 
George Fox, and, like that indomitable leader, 
went to prison many times before he founded the 
Colony of Pennsylvania. 

No wonder, then, that William Penn regarded 
the King's grant as salvation for the Quarkers, 
whose cause he had championed at every op- 
portunity. It was not an idea of sudden growth, 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 79 

— this providing a refuge in the wilderness of 
America for these persecuted people. The leaders 
had seen the Puritans go to Massachusetts, and 
the Roman Catholics go to Maryland; they did 
not wish to take these long-suffering people to 
almost certain persecution among the churchmen 
in Virginia, and Dutch New York was a place of 
unknown terrors. Already, the far-seeing George 
Fox had fixed on the unoccupied territory just 
north of Maryland and behind New Jersey. It 
had not been settled because it was some distance 
from the sea-shore, but a great river — which the 
Dutch called the Zuydt and the English named 
the Delaware — made access to the ocean easy 
enough, and, in 1660, Fox sent one Josiah Cole 
over to America to treat with the Susquehanna 
Indians, who were supposed to be the lords of 
that region. Cole knew the country well, having 
been in America before, and had had much friendly 
intercourse with the Indians; but, when Fox sent 
him over to try and buy this bit of real estate, the 
owners were at war with other tribes, and there 
was no chance of purchasing the coveted land. 

Penn, though but a boy at this time, soon after 
joined his fortunes with his Quaker friends, and 
to him the idea of this new land of peace and 
harmony appealed strongly. But it was not 
until 1680 that he began to treat with the Crown 
for the land he had dreamed of, when a boy. 



80 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

In the meantime, New Jersey had been divided 
into East and West Jersey. East Jersey be- 
longed to Sir George Cartaret, West Jersey to 
Lord Berkeley. West Jersey was sold by Lord 
Berkeley to John Fenwick and Edward Byllinge, 
two Quakers, who, getting into a dispute, called 
upon Penn to settle the question, — for the Quak- 
ers avoided lawsuits among their own people, 
and matters were generally adjusted by the 
" peace makers," as they were called. There was 
some attempt on Penn's part to make a Quaker 
settlement of these two provinces, but the soil 
was not so fertile nor the country as attractive as 
the vast forests and mountain ranges of Pennsyl- 
vania, and after a time Penn lost interest in it. 

Meanwhile, Penn's father, the Admiral, had 
died, leaving his son a rich man. A few years 
later, he was happily married to Miss Gulielma 
Springett, a very charming young woman whom 
he loved devotedly. His home life was delight- 
ful, and despite his Quaker persuasion he became 
a very broad-minded, cultured man. He had 
inherited from his father a legacy more important 
than wealth, the friendship of Charles II, and his 
brother, James, the Duke of York; and these 
royalties also owed his deceased father a debt of 
£16,000, which it was impossible for them to pay 
in ready money, as the Exchequer was always in a 
state of exhaustion. So Penn sent a petition to 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 8 1 

the King, asking that, in payment of the £16,000, 
he be given a tract of land in America, lying 
north of Maryland, " bounded on the east by 
the Delaware River, on the west limited as 
Maryland, and northward to extend as far as 
plantable." These somewhat vague boundary 
lines gave much trouble; so much so that Penn's 
biographer startles us with this queer supposition : 
"If the Maryland boundaries were right, Phil- 
adelphia was a Maryland town, and if the Penn- 
sylvania boundaries were right, Baltimore was a 
Pennsylvania town." 

However that may be, Penn was granted a 
tract of land larger than Ireland and very nearly 
as large as England — the largest tract ever given 
to a single person, — land which afterwards proved 
the most valuable in America, with its fertile 
soil and its untold wealth of coal, iron, and pe- 
troleum. On March 4, 1681, the charter re- 
ceived the Royal signature, and Penn found him- 
self a great lord of a vast territory. He sent his 
cousin, William Markham, ahead to take posses- 
sion, while he stayed behind to prepare for what 
he called "The holy experiment of Pennsylvania." 

The rest is history. The following year, after 
framing a Constitution which tempered "justice 
with mercy," Penn set sail for America to build 
a great city, and to lay out and govern the most 
prosperous of the Colonies; for shiploads of 



82 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Quaker emigrants arrived rapidly, many bringing 
with them the frames of houses ready to set up. 
Everyone seemed happy in the venture, from the 
handsome young proprietor — he was only thirty- 
eight — to the humblest of workmen. These 
fortunate settlers suffered no hardships, neither 
famine nor sickness of any kind. It was more 
like a picnic or camping party, this building of 
Philadelphia, which well deserved its name, "The 
City of Brotherly Love." 

In his treatment of the Indians, Penn's name 
has gone on the honor roll. He paid them well 
for their land and gave his promise to treat them 
fairly. There was nothing remarkable in this 
promise, except that he kept his word, not merely 
in his own eyes, but in those of the savages, who 
spoke of him as the one white man and Christian 
whose word was his bond. 

Through all of William Penn's career nothing 
else gave him such lasting and deserved renown. 
This was the secret of Pennsylvania's tranquil 
prosperity, which lasted, not only during Penn's 
life, but long afterwards, until the French and 
Indian War touched their frontier in 1755, when 
the Pennsylvanians — unaccustomed to warfare — 
were almost without weapons, and the invaders 
swept everything before them. At that time, 
the people of Pennsylvania first became aware of 
the discord in the world about them. 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 83 

The Quaker government in Philadelphia and 
middle Pennsylvania kept the peace-bond in 
spite of many difficulties, but when, at the close 
of the French and Indian War, some of their own 
peaceful tribes were unjustly slaughtered, they 
were beset with difficulties, and finally the King 
was petitioned to abolish the proprietorship 
and govern Pennsylvania as a royal Province. 
This was hardly done before the Stamp Act 
threatened the very foundations of liberty, and, 
through a series of events, it came to pass that 
Philadelphia, "the City of Brotherly Love," was 
the spot selected from which to make a final 
stand, to break with the Mother Country, to 
declare independence. 

The Pennsylvanians, fresh upon the scene, had 
no long years of tyranny to avenge; but their 
situation, in the very midst of revolt, made it 
necessary to stand on one side or the other. Yet, 
with few exceptions, they were unwilling to break 
the bond with England. The Patriot leaders 
found it as difficult to persuade the Quakers to 
abandon the life of peace and plenty they were 
leading, as to persuade the stout, red-faced, jovial 
Mynheers of Dutch New York to set down their 
tankards of foaming beer and take up their guns 
for liberty. 

When the patriotic delegates made up their 
minds that they must have a place of meeting, and 



84 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Philadelphia was selected, it was not with un- 
mixed joy that the inhabitants prepared a wel- 
come for the strangers. The representatives 
were not only unknown to them, but were un- 
known to each other, save by name and reputa- 
tion. It was not easy in those days to travel 
from Colony to Colony, and, even between 
Virginia and Massachusetts, the leaders of the 
rebellion, there was little or no intercourse, save 
through the untiring energy of the Expresses. 

These, as we know, were mounted messengers, 
sent out from one Colony to another during those 
troublous times. Their importance can never 
be estimated, and, save in the cases of Paul 
Revere and one or two others, they are heroes 
unsung in history. 

It was due to the quick work of the Expresses 
that the members who composed the first 
Continental Congress assembled so promptly. 
There was no ofhcial welcome for these delegates, 
who were simply coming to discuss matters, with 
due deference and loyalty to the King. At that 
time only two members present seriously thought 
of independence — Samuel Adams, who had al- 
ways considered it the only course, and Patrick 
Henry, who had not yet uttered the memorable 
words, "Give me liberty — or give me death!" 

The "Sons of Liberty" of Philadelphia deputed 
some of their number to welcome the guests. 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 85 

The men selected were Charles Thomson, a well- 
known merchant, Thomas Mifflin, another mer- 
chant, Joseph Reed, a young lawyer who, though 
educated for the bar in England, was always an 
ardent patriot, and last but not least, John Dick- 
inson, whose voice had much weight in the Coun- 
cils. He was greatly censured by the determined 
Massachusetts men and the hot-headed Virgin- 
ians, because he wished to pause and reason with 
England, to present protests and petitions, while 
her soldiers were tramping, unbidden, through 
the Colonies. 

He had married an excellent Quaker lady, and 
the peaceful Quakers of Philadelphia depended on 
his good sense and judgment to head.off rebellion. 
Thomson and Dickinson had married cousins, and 
saw a great deal of each other. Thomson asserts 
that Dickinson would have been on the side of 
the Patriots in the very beginning, but that he 
was held back by his mother and his wife. His 
mother is reported to have said to him : "Johnny, 
you will be hanged; your estate will be forfeited 
and confiscated; you will leave your excellent 
wife a widow, and your charming children — 
orphans, beggars, and infamous." 

No doubt this consideration held many a man 
back from the final step, and was a sentiment 
shared by most of the wives and mothers. Dick- 
inson, however, through a series of papers called 



86 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

"Farmer's Letters," explained the stand of the 
Patriots in masterly fashion, and guided many an 
exciting debate into calmer waters. 

Yet, after all, the quiet Quakers must have 
watched with a thrill the coming of the delegates 
from all habitable parts of the New World. 
Eleven of the thirteen Colonies were represented 
in this gathering, and the delegates began coming 
in to Philadelphia as early as August 10, when 
"the South Carolina packet from Charleston 
reached the wharf at Philadelphia, and Henry 
Middleton and Edward Rutledge walked ashore." 
Following them in quick succession came rep- 
resentatives from New Hampshire, New Jer- 
sey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, 
Delaware, Virginia, New York, and Maryland. 

But the arrivals which excited the liveliest 
interest were the delegates from the suffering 
town of Boston. They were the heroes of the 
hour ; and the visiting delegates, accompanied by 
the committee of Philadelphians, rode as far as 
the suburbs to meet them. There were five dele- 
gates appointed, Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, 
John Adams, Robert Trent Paine, and James 
Bowdoin, but the last mentioned could not come 
on account of failing health, for the journey was a 
long one. It took them three weeks to travel 
by coach from Boston, and they feared at the 
last moment that Governor Gage would try to 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 87 

prevent their departure — but they were not 
molested. "In fact," we are told, "when one of 
the four horses which drew their carriage balked 
near the Common, the Captain of a company of 
regulars jokingly suggested to them that their 
coachman must have made a mistake and put in 
a Tory horse." 

It was a triumphant progress from Boston to 
Philadelphia, and, as John Adams wrote to his 
wife; "It would take a volume to describe the 
whole. . . . We have had opportunities to 
see the world, and to form acquaintances with the 
most eminent and famous men in the several 
Colonies we have passed through." At Prince- 
ton College, they were entertained by President 
Witherspoon. Both he and the student-body 
were "Sons of Liberty," though, in Chapel, we 
learn that "they sang as badly as the Presbyte- 
rians of New York." 

On Friday, the second of September, the ad- 
vance-guard of the Virginians arrived — Benjamin 
Harrison, Richard Bland, Peyton Randolph and 
Richard Henry Lee, the last of whom was des- 
tined to shed undying lustre on an already hon- 
ored name by offering to the Second Continental 
Congress a resolution proposing the drafting of a 
Declaration of Independence. 

But Virginia had yet to send her most illus- 
trious representatives — George Washington, Pat- 



88 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

rick Henry and Edmund Pendleton, who ar- 
rived on Sunday, September 4. Henry and Pen- 
dleton, at Washington's invitation, had stopped 
over-night at Mount Vernon; they were both 
much impressed by Mrs. Washington. "I hope 
you will all stand firm," she said, when the time 
of parting came; "I know George will," and she 
waved good-by to the three gentlemen, as they 
started off on their five days' journey on horse- 
back. 

There is no doubt that the Virginia group of 
delegates attracted the greatest amount of at- 
tention and admiration. Samuel Adams, a won- 
derful reader of men, saw from the beginning that 
not even the trials of Massachusetts, which 
had brought the Assembly together, would 
count for anything in this Congress without 
the enthusiastic support of these vigorous sons 
of Virginia. 

The delegates from New York, New Jersey, 
Delaware and Maryland arrived later; and the 
notable Congress had already assembled when 
they took their seats. 

When we look back upon those dangerous 
journeys over bad roads or through forests beset 
by unknown terrors, we cannot but marvel at 
the courage and energy of these patriotic gentle- 
men, who literally risked life and limb in the 
service of their country. 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 89 

There was no hint of rebellion to mark this 
first Congress. They had come together merely 
to protest to the King about certain unjust acts 
of Parliament. During the first few weeks, much 
time was spent in organization. On Monday 
morning, September 5, the delegates met at the 
City Tavern, and marched to Carpenter's Hall, 
which, after some controversy, had been selected 
as the place for assembly. Then they set to 
work in earnest, choosing Peyton Randolph as 
chairman, and Charles Thomson — "the Samuel 
Adams of Philadelphia" — as secretary, a position 
which he faithfully held for fifteen years. He was 
discreet and conscientious, and "would not reveal 
the secrets of a Congress sitting with its head in 
the lion's mouth." So strict was his sense of 
honor that he was known in Philadelphia as 
11 Charles Thomson, the man who tells the truth," 
and so careful was he of the secrets in his keeping 
that he destroyed all his notes of the great his- 
toric drama, thereby depriving the world of the 
most authentic story of the Revolution. "The 
Confidential Secretary of the Continental Con- 
gress" carried its secrets to the grave. He well 
deserved that epitaph upon his tombstone. 

The delegates had many a hard lesson to learn 
before they could work peaceably side by side for 
the common weal. There were parties and fac- 
tions, just as in the politics of to-day, and John 



90 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Adams wrote to his wife: " Fifty gentlemen 
meeting together, all strangers, are not acquainted 
with each other's language, ideas, views, designs. 
They are, therefore, jealous of each other, fearful, 
timid, skittish." 

Added to which they were of many religions 
— "some Episcopalians, some Quakers, some 
Anabaptists, some Presbyterians, and some Con- 
gregationalists." Knowing as we do that many 
of the Colonists had run away from religious 
persecution in the Old World, seeking "freedom 
to worship God," each in his own way in the New 
World, it naturally followed that there was some 
discussion as to whom they should select to open 
the Congress with prayer. Finally, after much 
wrangling, Samuel Adams rose and said, "he was 
no bigot and could hear a prayer from a gentle- 
man of piety and virtue, who was at the same time 
a friend to his country. He was a stranger in 
Philadelphia, but had heard that Mr. Duche de- 
served that character, and therefore he moved 
that Mr. Duche, an Episcopal clergyman, might 
be desired to read prayers to the Congress tomor- 
row morning. . . . Accordingly, next morn- 
ing he appeared with his clerk in his pontificals, 
and read several prayers in the established form, 
and then read the collect for Seventh of Septem- 
ber, which was the thirty-fifth Psalm. . . . 
After this, Mr. Duche, unexpectedly to every- 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 91 

body, struck out into an extemporary prayer 
which filled the bosom of every man present. 
I must confess I never heard a better prayer, or 
one so well pronounced. ... It had had an 
excellent effect on everybody there." 

Truly, there is no finer record of the times and 
the events than the intimate letters of John 
Adams to his wife. He was a great power in this 
raw Congress, where he sat silent for the most 
part, studying the men about him, and, without 
doubt, in an unobtrusive way he was one of the 
busiest members of the Congress. 

"The business before me is so arduous and 
takes up my time so entirely that I cannot write 
often," John Adams says in another letter. "I 
had the characters and tempers, the principles 
and views of fifty gentlemen to study, and the 
trade policy and whole interest of a dozen prov- 
inces to learn when I came here. I have multi- 
tudes of pamphlets, newspapers, and private let- 
ters to read. I have numberless plans of policy, 
and many arguments to consider. I have many 
visits to make and receive, much ceremony to 
endure, which cannot be avoided, which, you 
know, I hate." 

"There is great spirit in the Congress," he 
says, in another letter. " But our people must be 
peaceable. Let them exercise every day in the 
week if they will; the more, the better. Let 



92 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

them furnish themselves with artillery, arms and 
ammunition. Let them follow the maxim which 
you say they have adopted, 'In times of peace, 
prepare for war. ' But let them avoid war if 
possible — if possible, I say. Mr. Revere will 
bring you the doings of the Congress, who are now 
all about me, debating what advice to give to 
Boston and Massachusetts Bay." 

Adams, with his keen insight, gauged the very 
depths of every man present ; but Patrick Henry 
it was who carried men off their feet. On hearing 
of the bombardment of Boston at the close of a 
spirited debate, he uttered these memorable 
words: "The distinctions between Virginians, 
Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers, and New Eng- 
enders are no more. I am not a Virginian — 
but an American." 

His tall figure, "in its plain dark suit of min- 
ister's gray, and unpowdered wig," deeply im- 
pressed Secretary Thomson, who saw him for the 
first time and imagined that he was some country 
parson who had "mistaken his talents and the 
theatre for their display." The honest Secre- 
tary changed his opinion in a short time. Yet 
Henry himself, simple, unaffected, devoted heart 
and soul to the cause of the people, had no idea 
how he towered above most of his associates in 
Congress. When asked by one of his neighbors 
at home whom he esteemed the greatest man in 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 93 

the First Congress, he is said to have answered: 
"Rutledge [of South Carolina], if you speak of 
eloquence, is by far the greatest orator, but Col- 
onel Washington, who has no pretentions to 
eloquence, is a man of more solid judgment and 
information than any man on the floor." Yet 
George Washington sat almost silent through 
that First Congress, his tall figure and military 
bearing powerfully impressing those men who 
looked ahead. 

The members of the First Congress met once 
more at the City Tavern to say farewell, on Oc- 
tober 25, determined to meet again in the near 
future — for Congress had voted to stand by 
Massachusetts at all costs. There was much to 
do before Congress met again. Feeling that 
things were coming to a crisis, they went quietly 
to work, as the far-seeing John Adams recom- 
mended, gathering in and secreting all the am- 
munition and military stores within their reach, 
drilling night and day. The "Sons of Liberty," 
now grown to a great organization, spread 
through the Colonies, keeping constant and vig- 
ilant watch for the slightest movement of hostility 
on the part of the English, for the latest orders 
from the Mother Country forbade the purchase 
of firearms by the Colonists, while the soldiers 
were commanded to seize everything of the kind 
they could lay their hands upon. Secret ex- 



94 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

presses were sent from town to town, from prov- 
ince to province, warning the citizens to hold on 
to their stores. 

The Patriot leaders now began to speak in 
more open defiance. The British were roused; 
a price was set upon the heads of Samuel Adams 
and John Hancock. War was in the air, and 
open threats passed between Tories and Whigs, 
between soldiers and citizens. "Minute Men" 
were springing up all over the country ; the farmer 
worked with his gun near by; the mechanics 
went about their business ready to drop their 
tools at a moment's notice. As usual, Massa- 
chusetts took the lead, the British anger seemed 
concentrated upon the Puritan town. 

Yet, Virginia was not far behind. In the city 
of Richmond, in the old parish church of St. 
Johns, on March 23, 1775, a vast assembly was 
gathered. Until that day, it was not a famous 
church and far less beautiful than many another 
place of worship, but it stood commandingly on 
top of Richmond Hill, and its roomy interior 
made it a fitting place in which to hold the Pro- 
vincial Convention which assembled there that 
day. The body of the church was filled with the 
delegates; in the pulpit sat Peyton Randolph, the 
president. Washington, the Lees, Jefferson, Pat- 
rick Henry, and all the other notables were 
directly under him. The gallery was crowded 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 95 

with spectators, and they clung to the window- 
ledges for lack of other space. The meeting 
was opened, and proceeded in the usual way until 
Henry rose to speak. There had been no mis- 
taking his attitude from the close of the First 
Congress: he was heart and soul for war. At 
the beginning of this momentous meeting, he had 
offered three resolutions: 

"i. That a well regulated militia composed of 
gentlemen and yeomen is the natural strength, 
and only security of a free government. . . . 

"2. That the establishment of such a militia 
is at this time peculiarly necessary, by the state 
of our laws, for the protection and defense of the 
country. . . . 

"3. Resolved, therefore — That this colony be 
immediately put into a posture of defense; and 
that there be a committee to prepare a plan for 
embodying, arming and disciplining such a num- 
ber of men as may be sufficient for that purpose." 

This produced much commotion, opposition 
and debate, but Henry exclaimed in the hearing 
of all men: "Why talk of things being now done, 
which can avert the war? Such things will not be 
done. The war is coming; it has come already." 
So when he rose, and in his low even tones began 
to speak, those who agreed with him and those 
who disagreed, leaned forward eagerly, while 
from the lips of the orator poured forth the 



96 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

speech which called Virginians to arms, and raised 
Henry himself to the highest pinnacle of renown. 

To begin with, the speech itself was a masterly 
composition; and, with the speaker's perfect 
control of face and gesture, every well-chosen 
sentence struck home. Sentences here and there 
show the temper of the people. 

"This is no time for ceremony. The question 
before the House is one of awful moment to this 
country. . . . For my part, whatever an- 
guish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know 
the whole truth; to know the worst, and provide 
for it. 

"I have but one lamp by which my feelings 
are guided, and that is the lamp of experi- 
ence. I know no way of judging the future, 
but by the past. . . . Let us not in the 
future deceive ourselves longer. . . . There 
is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be 
free; if we mean to preserve inviolate those ines- 
timable privileges for which we have been so long 
contending, ... we must fight! I repeat 
it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms and to 
the God of Hosts is all that is left us! 

". . . If we were base enough to desire it, 
it is now too late to retire from the contest. 
There is no retreat but in submission and slavery. 
Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be 
heard on the plains of Boston. The war is in- 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 97 

evitable. And let it come! I repeat it, sir, let 
it come!" 

One can imagine the thrill that went through 
the packed church while Henry, standing erect 
and calm, gathered himself together for his final 
words. He began in a low voice which rose to 
thundering heights as he went on : 

"It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. 
Gentlemen may cry peace — but there is no peace. 
The war is actually begun. The next gale that 
sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the 
clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are 
already in the field! Why stand we idle here? 
What is it that gentlemen wish? What would 
they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to 
be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? 
Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what 
course others may take, but, as for me, give me 
liberty or give me death!" 

There was no applause; the greatest moments 
are the silent ones. Everyone was struck dumb, 
there was nothing to say. Patrick Henry had 
spoken and the world had heard. Virginia from 
that moment ceased to doubt. Two men who 
were present have given to posterity some idea of 
the extraordinary scene. Judge St. George 
Tucker says : 

" Imagine to yourself this speech delivered with 
all the calm dignity of Cato at Utica; imagine to 



98 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

yourself the Roman Senate assembled in the 
Capitol. . . . Imagine that you heard Cato 
addressing such a Senate. Imagine that you 
saw the handwriting on the wall of Belshazzar's 
palace. Imagine that you had heard a voice as 
from heaven, uttering the words 'We must 
fight, ' as the doom of Fate, and you may have 
some idea of the speaker, the assembly — to whom 
he addressed himself, and the auditory — of 
which I was one." 

Another listener says: "When he sat down, I 
felt sick with excitement. Every eye gazed en- 
tranced on Henry. It seemed as if a word from 
him would have led to any wild explosion of 
violence. Men looked beside themselves." 

It is told that Colonel Edward Carrington, a 
friend, who listened to the speech in one of the 
east windows, cried, as he sprang down, "Let 
me be buried at this spot!" Carrington fought 
through the Revolution, and, when he died in 
1 8 10, his request was granted, and his grave is 
just beneath that east window of Old St. Johns. 

Hardly had the echoes of Henry's speech died 
away, when Massachusetts was up in arms; the 
Battles of Lexington and Concord had been fought, 
and Samuel Adams and John Hancock, pro- 
scribed and hunted, were flying across the coun- 
try, striving to reach Philadelphia in time for the 
opening of the Second Congress, which assembled 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 99 

on May 10, 1775, the day on which Ticonderoga 
fell into the hands of Ethan Allen and his fifty 
brave men. But that is another story. 

The very air of Philadelphia had changed, as 
we can see through the letters of John Adams. 
He writes: "The military spirit which runs 
through the continent is amazing. This city 
turns out two thousand men every day. . . . 
Colonel Washington appears at Congress in his 
uniform, and by his great experience and abilities 
in military matters is of much service to us." 

Peyton Randloph, who was to have been Pres- 
ident of this Second Congress, had been unexpec- 
tedly called home, and young Thomas Jefferson 
was sent as a delegate in his place, while John 
Hancock was made President of this historic 
body. There was now little talk of an appeal to 
the King, though John Dickinson, always mod- 
erate, did not favor any declaration of independ- 
ence. At his back were many who were of his 
mind; so, behind the closed doors of the Assem- 
bly, there were many excited debates. 

Benjamin Franklin, now back in Philadelphia, 
was a great force on the side of the Patriots. All 
his efforts for peace having come to nothing in 
England, he had returned to his country to aid 
with his wise council in this time of stress. Bos- 
ton was now in a state of siege. The English 
were shut in the town, and the Americans, under 



IOO HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

General Artemus Ward, were encamped in front 
of it, as yet too small an army and too disorgan- 
ized to attempt an attack. 

One of the first deeds of Congress was to choose 
a Commander-in-Chief for these straggling, un- 
disciplined soldiers, and it seemed strange that 
in an assembly quickened to fever heat by so 
many political squabbles, all eyes should turn 
towards one man. The Battle of Bunker Hill 
had been fought on June 17, and the Americans 
were mourning the death of their beloved leader, 
Joseph Warren, when, on that same day, John 
Adams made a motion, asking that Colonel 
George Washington, of the Virginia militia, be 
considered for the head of the army; his fitness 
for such a post could not be disputed. This 
was a graceful compliment from Massachusetts 
to Virginia, and a well-laid scheme of the Adamses 
to knit the two Colonies in closer ties. 

It was rumored that Hancock would have liked 
the appointment for himself. However that 
may be, Washington was the unanimous choice 
of Congress, and, modest as he was, he must 
have had some notion of what was going to hap- 
pen, for "he had been escorted into Philadel- 
phia by five hundred officers and gentlemen on 
horseback, and by riflemen and infantry, with 
bands of music." Artemus Ward, Philip Schuy- 
ler, Israel Putnam and Charles Lee were chosen 



THE RALLY OF THE PATRIOTS 10 1 

Major-Generals. Horatio Gates was appointed 
Adjutant-General, while Pomery, Heath, Thomas 
of Massachusetts, Wooster and Spencer of Con- 
necticut, Sullivan of New Hampshire, Montgom- 
ery of New York, and the Quaker, Nathanael 
Greene of Rhode Island, the most brilliant officer 
among them, were appointed Brigadiers. 

Out of this stalwart array it seems strange 
that the only two native Englishmen among 
them should have proved worthless : Charles Lee 
and Horatio Gates did not lend much lustre to 
the glory of our country. Again, after the Battle 
of Bunker Hill, in deference to Dickinson, another 
petition was adressed to the King — the "olive 
branch," as the long suffering Colonies called it. 
In return, he proclaimed the Colonists in a state 
of rebellion, and that broke down all barriers. 
Congress got quickly to work, spurred on by John 
Adams, whose unwearied efforts for independence 
were so obnoxious to many that he wrote his wife 
he was "avoided like a man infected with leprosy. 
I walked the streets of Philadelphia in solitude, 
borne down by the weight of care and unpopu- 
larity." 

Meanwhile, Washington had assumed com- 
mand, and was personally conducting the siege 
of Boston, while debates waxed hotter in Con- 
gress, which sat far into December. Many dif- 
ficulties were pressing upon the Colonists. New 



102 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

England and New York were now infested by the 
smallpox. John Adams writes, on his return to 
Congress for the third time in February, 1776: 

"The smallpox! The smallpox! What shall 
we do with it? I almost wish that an inoculating 
hospital was opened in every town in New 
England. It is some small consolation that the 
scoundrel savages have taken a large dose of 
it. They plundered the baggage and stripped off 
the clothes of our men, who had the smallpox 
out full upon them at the Cedars." 

The Third Continental Congress took up 
affairs with a firmer hand; the associating mem- 
bers were no longer afraid of themselves or of 
each other; they had called to council only the 
ablest of men. Independence became more than 
a murmur. It wanted but expression. Many 
talked and wrangled over it, and there were 
many lively debates on the subject. There was, 
however, a keen, eager young man who sat by 
silently while others talked, but soon his very 
silence grew impressive. Men's eyes began to 
turn towards him for here was a man to help 
Congress in its need — a man who could set down 
the people's ultimatum. His name was Thomas 
Jefferson. 



CHAPTER V 

THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION 
OF INDEPENDENCE 

\\ 7HEN Patrick Henry was at the height of 
* * his glory, a tall young fellow about 
twenty-six years old, took his seat in the House 
of Burgesses. No doubt he felt himself of great 
importance as he sat among the law-makers, but 
the honor was deserved, for he was beginning to 
be well known as a man of exceptional ability. 
His name was Thomas Jefferson, and his first 
duty was to prepare a fitting reply to the opening 
speech of the Governor, Lord Botetourt, and he 
was much displeased that a great many of his 
fine phrases were scratched out by the Burgesses, 
who wanted plain and simple talk. On the third 
day of the session, the Governor dismissed the 
Assembly, but they reassembled at the Raleigh, 
and Jefferson, who had placed himself among the 
fighting members, found his services called upon 
quite frequently, for, in spite of his youth, his 
opinions were already firmly rooted; and in tak- 
ing his seat in the House of Burgesses he was 

103 



104 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

spurred on by a deep and lasting admiration of 
Patrick Henry. 

Jefferson was seven years younger than the 
famous orator, the day of his birth being April 
13, 1743. His father's death, in 1757, left him 
practically his own master at the age of fourteen. 
Like Patrick Henry, he came of absolutely pure 
Colonial stock, and though, in later days, Jef- 
ferson often said that lineage was not essential 
to prove a man's worth, he was most careful to 
have his own pedigree investigated in the her- 
ald's office in London, and his seal and coat of 
arms were to be found in various corners of his 
Monticello estate. 

His mother, of whom very little is known except 
that her name was Jane, and that she was a 
daughter of Isham Randolph, one of the rich 
" tobacco lords" in Virginia, is seldom mentioned 
in his voluminous records and his many biogra- 
phies; and certainly she had no influence on the 
life of this young son, for he says in a letter, "At 
fourteen years of age, the whole care and direction 
of myself was thrown on myself entirely, without 
a relative or friend qualified to advise or guide 
me." 

Thomas was one of ten children, the boys as 
usual being overshadowed by the girls. One 
baby boy must have died at birth, according to 
the record, leaving three boys and six girls. Jef- 



THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION 105 

ferson's father, Peter Jefferson, was noted for 
his great height and strength, and his son Thomas 
at least inherited his inches. As a young man, 
he was unusually tall and lanky, with freckled 
face and sandy hair, though some of his biog- 
raphers call it red. Not one has even suggested 
that he was good-looking, though, judging from 
the numerous portraits of the older man, time 
softened and refined the angles of face and figure. 
Unlike his hero, Patrick Henry, Jefferson seldom 
spoke in the Assembly, but his cleverness in 
draughting contracts and resolutions soon pointed 
his way of usefulness. To Jefferson belongs the 
honor of having prepared the most important 
document in America's history — our Declaration 
of Independence — but the Virginia Colonists 
were, as yet, far from the solution of their prob- 
lem. They were standing by, watching with 
deep concern the struggles of Massachusetts. 

As a young man, Jefferson went much into 
society, but never joined the other young men of 
his set in gaming and drinking. Born to wealth 
and social position, the doors of the best society 
were open to him, and his early love affairs were 
the subject of much banter among his friends. 

When he was twenty-one years of age, he cele- 
brated the occasion, according to an old custom, 
by planting an avenue of trees in front of his 
mother's house, many of which are standing to- 



106 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

day, after a lapse of a century and a half; and 
coming of age in those days meant the real as- 
suming of responsibilities, which Thomas Jef- 
ferson was the last to shirk. "His form," we 
are told, "was as straight as a gun barrel, sinewy 
and alert," and we are also informed that he 
cultivated his strength by riding, hunting, row- 
ing, and dancing; indeed the Virginian who could 
not dance was nothing more than a country 
bumpkin. Jefferson not only loved dancing, 
but was passionately fond of music, a taste he 
shared with Patrick Henry, who played both the 
flute and the violin. Jefferson played the violin, 
and in comparing the musical ability of these 
two great men, tradition tells us that " Patrick 
Henry was the worst fiddler in the Colony, with 
the exception of Thomas Jefferson." 

He took to playing duets with the pretty 
Widow Skelton, and played himself into a real 
love affair at last. The lady was not only a 
beauty, but was the daughter of a well-to-do 
lawyer, who owned broad acres in estates. Mis- 
tress Martha had many suitors, and, at the time 
of Jefferson's wooing, three love-sick young men 
drew lots for the first proposal. Jefferson won 
the right, and the other two hung over the hedge, 
trying to tell, by the strains of his violin, whether 
he was successful or not. After listening for a 
while to the most joyful music, they wisely 



THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION 107 

concluded that his suit had prospered, and they 
walked home crestfallen. The young couple 
were married on New Year's Day in 1772, when 
Jefferson was not quite twenty-nine years old, 
and they went to Monticello before that now his- 
toric homestead was completed. They began 
life together in the midst of stirring times, for 
the Royal Province of Virginia was groaning 
under the yoke of the tyrant, and the perfidious 
Dunmore was driving them beyond endurance. 

Jefferson soon proved himself invaluable in the 
councils of the "rebels," led by Patrick Henry, 
because of his genius for writing formal and 
official documents, and it was chiefly for this 
cause, added to his clear reasoning powers and 
his profound legal knowledge, that he was sent 
to Philadelphia as the time was drawing near 
for the Colonists' last word to the King of 
England. 

Jefferson studied the law because he found it 
interesting; his ample fortune made him inde- 
pendent of clients. He was soon master of all 
legal points in the province, and it seemed from 
the moment he began to practice everybody was 
having law suits — for after nearly a century of 
extravagance the hitherto wealthy planters woke 
up to find that they had no money, that they were 
bankrupt. The planter in Jefferson's time could 
write his epitaph in a few words: "One century 



108 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

of prosperity, three generations of spendthrifts, 
then a lawyer and the sheriff." 

At that time farming was Virginia's only in- 
dustry. The trade was chiefly tobacco, which 
was sent to London and exchanged for the costly 
elegancies of the Old World. Even Virginia's 
fertile soil gave out at last ; slave labor became ex- 
pensive; the quality of the tobacco, too, was in- 
ferior, while the price of slaves increased. The 
bewildered landholders looked to the law to help 
them out of their trouble, and Jefferson found 
practice enough on hand to double his income. 
He must have been a reliable young fellow, or 
perhaps it was because he was so well known in 
the community, for the most prominent families 
were his clients, and his keen observation and 
quick perceptions, made his opinion very val- 
uable. His mind was stored with a wealth of 
legal lore, but so methodically arranged that he 
could always state a case with clearness and brev- 
ity. He once described a lawyer as a person who 
contested everything and conceded nothing and 
could talk by the hour. And just here Jefferson 
failed — not because he was diffident or self-con- 
scious, but because of some defect in his vocal 
organs. After the slightest effort his voice would 
become husky and often inarticulate. It was 
probably for this reason that, when he was 
elected to the Continental Congress in 1775, he 



THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION 109 

gave up the practice of law, having doubled his 
fortune and trebled his experience in seven 
years' time. 

The first service he rendered his country was 
the revision of the laws of Virginia — a stupendous 
task in those days when printing-presses were 
scarce, and copies of the old laws had to be tran- 
scribed by hand. But Jefferson proved himself 
equal to the task, though it was said that during 
the first month of the revision he proposed enough 
work to keep the Legislature busy for ten years. 
His capacity for work was enormous. Had he 
lived in the days of typewriting and stenography, 
there is no telling what he might have accom- 
plished. One of his biggest fights in Virginia — 
and our young politician had many — was his 
attack upon the aristocracy. He was against the 
old law brought from England which handed 
over the property to the eldest son, instead of 
dividing equally among all the children of a 
family — a law which left the younger sons al- 
most penniless and, nine times out of ten, the 
property went to ruin, and Virginia was held by 
a few decaying families. It took Jefferson three 
weeks to kill this law ; he was finally successful but 
he made life-long enemies by this reform, although 
as he explained, his sole purpose was to destroy 
the aristocracy of wealth, and make an opening 
for the aristocracy of virtue and education. 



1 10 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

His idea of trial by jury is best expressed in 
his own words: "The people are not qualified 
to judge questions of law but they are capable of 
judging questions of fact. In the form of juries, 
therefore, they determined all matters of fact, 
leaving to the permanent judges to decide the law 
resulting from those facts." 

Jefferson hated two things with all the strength 
of his earnest intolerant young soul. He was 
strongly opposed to duelling, at that period the 
chosen way of settling disputes, and in the Crimes 
Bill of the State of Virginia he suggested that 
duelling should be punished by death. 

He also hated the slave trade and foretold 
the time when the institution of human slavery 
in a free country would bring ruin in its train. 
Yet in his own home he had seen nothing but the 
bright side of this great evil. His father drilled 
the negroes, as they landed, in some sort of a 
trade, making them good carpenters, wheel- 
wrights, shoe-makers and farmers, while his 
mother and sisters took the girls and women in 
hand and taught them the household arts. 
Surely no haven could be safer for those poor, ig- 
norant souls, but Jefferson's broad and question- 
ing mind looked always far beyond the present, 
and he could not understand why the very people 
who were clamoring to be free and independent 
should not, in their turn, consider the case of 



THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION III 

those unfortunates whom fate had thrown into 
their hands. 

But in those earlier days, Thomas Jefferson 
was too young to influence the men with whom he 
came in contact ; he was purely a Patriot drawn to 
the issue through his admiration of a great man. 
His acquaintance with Patrick Henry dated from 
his college days in Williamsburg, where the latter 
was practicing law, an impecunious, reckless 
fellow, full of music and humor. They soon 
became good friends, and when Henry's business 
brought him to Williamsburg which it frequently 
did, he often shared Jefferson's bed for lack of 
money to pay a hotel bill. Indeed, so little is a 
man a prophet in his own country that not only 
was Henry regarded as an " incorrigible scamp" 
by the neighbors, but even Jefferson who was 
charmed with his oratory, courage, and wit, de- 
plored his lack of industry and learning. Yet for 
all that the two young men were as intimate as 
brothers. "It was on the fly-leaf of Jefferson's 
'Coke upon Littleton' (a famous law book) that 
Henry wrote his famous resolutions (the Colonists' 
first formal act of revolt), and which led to 
that still more famous speech against taxa- 
tion without representation, and it was from 
Jefferson's modest chamber that this briefless 
barrister went to the meeting of Burgesses 
in 1765." 



112 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

On that occasion Jefferson accompanied his 
friend to the court-house, which was so crowded 
he was unable to secure entrance, but he stood 
in the doorway astounded by the eloquence and 
moved by the truth and sincerity of the speaker. 
Up to that time Jefferson had been unconvinced, 
but from the moment Henry began to speak 
he was held captive — convinced against his 
will. He was wont to describe this day as the 
most important in his life. He became a 
changed man, eager to take a part in the strug- 
gle. "Torrents of sublime eloquence," he said, 
"swept away all arguments on the other side, 
and the resolutions were carried, the last one by 
a single vote." 

It was these resolutions which caused the Gov- 
ernor to dissolve the House of Burgesses, and 
thus Thomas Jefferson, after all his efforts to be 
elected, represented his native country exactly 
five days. But all the tyrannical laws of Eng- 
land could not quench the new-born patriotism. 
The next day the outraged members met and 
signed an address recommending the people to 
follow the example of Massachusetts and boycott 
all English manufactures; never to buy an ar- 
ticle taxed by Parliament, excepting cheap quan- 
tities of paper, never to patronize British ships, 
never to use an article imported from England, 
that they could do without, and to save all their 



THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION 1 13 

lambs in order to have wool enough to furnish 
their own clothing. 

Jefferson was one of the eighty-eight members 
who signed this document and were re-elected. 
The twelve who refused to sign were defeated at 
the next election and were boycotted throughout 
the Colony. 

Jefferson was now in constant demand, and 
his name appears on all the committees whose 
business it was to rouse the people of Virginia. 
The young Revolutionists met at the Raleigh 
Tavern and instructed their Committee on Cor- 
respondence to write to the other Colonies and 
propose the appointment of delegates to meet in a 
general Congress. "It was acceded to," writes 
Jefferson. " Philadelphia was the place, and the 
5th of September for the time of meeting." 

When Jefferson went to Philadelphia as a del- 
egate his fame as a writer and a scholar preceded 
him. John Adams tells us that he brought with 
him a "reputation for literature, science and a 
happy talent for composition." He already 
knew several languages, and "he could calculate 
an eclipse, survey an estate, tie an artery, break 
a horse, dance a minuet and play the violin." 
His colleagues soon made use of his talent for 
composition, and the first thing he did was to 
prepare, for publication, a statement concerning 
the Battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill. He 



114 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

was next asked to write the proper reply to Lord 
North's " Conciliatory Propositions," and many 
other less important documents during that 
session. 

Congress adjourned in August, but Jefferson 
was immediately re-elected to a seat in the next 
Continental Congress to meet in September. It 
was at this Congress that Richard Henry Lee, 
head of the Virginian delegation, submitted a 
declaration of independence from that Colony 
and moved a formal declaration of independence 
from all the Colonies. The debate on this ques- 
tion took up most of the session but at last Con- 
gress woke up in earnest. In June, 1776, after 
much debate, a committee of five gentlemen was 
chosen to prepare a declaration — Benjamin 
Franklin, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, 
Robert Livingston and Roger Sherman. 

In choosing the man to write the document, 
Thomas Jefferson had the highest number of 
votes. John Adams was proposed for the duty, 
but he was wise enough to decline, his chief 
reason being that he was at that time so unpopu- 
lar that anything he wrote would be too severely 
criticised. So Jefferson, whose gift for writing 
was his drawing-card, was given the commission. 
The famous paper was written in his rooms, in the 
second story of his boarding house. He lodged 
with a man named Graf, a bricklayer, who lived in 



THE WRITER OF OUR DECLARATION 115 

a three-story house on Market Street. The Phila- 
delphians have marked the site with a tablet. 

When it was presented to Congress, there was 
much violent debate. Jefferson sat silent 
through it all, conscious of his poor powers of 
speech, and left all the discussion to John Adams, 
whom he gratefully called "the Colossus" of the 
debate, which would have been prolonged but for 
a swarm of hungry flies sweeping in through the 
open windows, and stinging the legs of the hon- 
orable members through their silk stockings. 
Jefferson, himself, in telling the story, says that 
they were so pestered that a vote was demanded 
before all the gentlemen had talked it over. 

The deciding vote at length rested with the 
state of Delaware, one representative being ab- 
sent with the army. The other member, Caesar 
Rodney, was desperately ill at his home in Wil- 
mington. Hearing that the vote was to be taken, 
he rose from what was supposed to be his death 
bed, and rode on horseback to Philadelphia in 
time to cast his vote for independence, changing, 
by this deed, the votes of Pennsylvania and 
South Carolina, which had been against it. He 
died shortly after. Only recently has his name 
been honored by the proposed erection of a tablet 
to his memory in Independence Hall. 

The Declaration was formally adopted on 
July 2, 1776 (though for some reason July 4 is 



116 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

always the day celebrated), amid great rejoicing, 
though all of the members of Congress did not 
sign till August. Thomas McKean, the member 
from Delaware who had been absent with the 
army, was permitted five years later to sign, by 
special act of Congress. When Hancock affixed 
his signature, which he made specially large and 
clear, he remarked : 

"There, John Bull can read my name without 
his spectacles." And when he urged the members 
of Congress to hang together, Franklin retorted : 
"Yes, we must hang together, or we shall all 
hang separately." 

So, fought and conquered these Patriots of the 
tongue and the pen, all heroes in their fashion. 
From then on, the heroes of the sword took up the 
fight and cut their way to victory. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 

THERE is no doubt that we are a very great 
nation and that we owe our being to the 
patriotism of a handful of single-minded 
men. When George Washington was chosen 
Commander of the raw, undisciplined troops, 
called by courtesy an army, that Revolutionary 
Congress "builded better than it knew," for, 
through the accident of this choice had been se- 
lected a real hero, one so far above the many 
quarrels and jealousies that had crept into Con- 
gress that it is doubtful if he ever knew that they 
existed. 

The people loved bravery, and he was the 
choice of the people; therefore they loved him. 
He accepted their affection as a public trust, and 
never once did he waver in the faithful per- 
formance of his duty. Though assailed, from 
the moment he assumed command, by all man- 
ner of slanders and suspicions, and though Con- 
gress, in those first uncertain months, left him 
to meet the situation as best he could, without 

sufficient money, food, clothing, arms or ammuni- 

ii7 



Il8 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

tion, the devotion he inspired among his soldiers 
held the little army together. 

Wily schemers and personal enemies soon 
sprang up, but Washington pursued his way 
undaunted, and nowhere in the history of war 
can we find a general who was so entirely master 
of himself and of his soldiers. While the Colonies 
were asking over and over the much debated 
question, " Shall we fight?" the fighting had 
begun, and the Battle of Lexington brought forth 
the "minute men" not only from "every Middle- 
sex village and farm," but they came pouring 
in from New Hampshire and Connecticut, armed 
and determined to conquer or die. 

The taking of Ticonderoga was the result of 
wise forethought on the part of the Boston 
leaders. England's first move would be, of 
course, to separate New England from the middle 
colonies, by taking possession of the Hudson 
River, which was a direct line to the lakes on the 
borders of New York and Vermont. At the head 
of these lakes stood Fort Ticonderoga on guard, 
and well garrisoned by the English. Convinced 
that this port was of the utmost importance, 
Adams and Hancock consulted with the Governor 
of Connecticut, and word was sent to Ethan 
Allen, in the Green Mountains, to prepare to 
seize the fort. Fifty men came from Massachu- 
setts and Connecticut to meet Allen at Benning- 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 1 19 

ton. Expresses were busy sending out alarms, 
and over a hundred men flocked to him. On 
May 8, the little expedition set out for the fort, 
headed by Ethan Allen, who was chosen com- 
mander of this handful of intrepid men. Henry 
Cabot Lodge, in his "Story of the Revolution," 
gives a most dramatic account of the assault 
and capture. He says: 

"The night of May 9, they were near the fort 
and waited for the day to come. When the first 
faint flush of light appeared, Allen asked every 
man who was willing to go with him to poise his 
gun. Every gun was raised. Allen gave the 
word, and they marched to the entrance of the 
fort. The gate was shut, but the wicket open. 
The sentry snapped his fuzee and Allen, followed 
by his men, dashed in through the wicket, raised 
the Indian war-whoop, and formed on the parade 
covering the barracks on each side. " 

The Colonists were skilled imitators of the 
war-whoop, which the garrison must have taken 
for the genuine article, as it startled them into an 
almost immediate surrender. Lodge continues: 

"There was but little resistance, and the 
sentries — after one or two shots — threw down 
their arms, while Allen strode forward toward 
the quarters of the commandant. As he reached 
the door, Delaplace appeared, undressed, and 
Allen demanded the surrender of the fort, 



120 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

'"By what authority?' asked Delaplace. 

"'In the name of the great Jehovah and the 
Continental Congress, ' answered Allen. And 
the fort, which had cost England so dear, was 
in the hands of the Americans in ten minutes. " 

Other nearby points were then seized — Crown 
Point and the harbor of Skenesboro — thus open- 
ing a way from New York to Canada, which 
proved to be of great importance in the future. 
And more important than anything else was the 
capture of two hundred cannon from Ticonderoga, 
which later were to aid in driving the British 
from Boston. 

In this brave little company of fighting men 
marched Benedict Arnold, destined to shed such 
light and such shadow upon the pages of our 
history. In the city of Boston, General Gage, 
the sometime Governor and now Commander of 
the British troops, took possession. After their 
experience at Concord and Lexington, the red- 
coats were content for a while to stay at home; 
the sea was still theirs, and they were daily ex- 
pecting reinforcements from England. Mean- 
while, the Americans, flushed with their victories 
at Lexington and Ticonderoga, gathered all their 
strength around Boston, and prepared for a siege. 

They chose General Artemus Ward as com- 
mander of the forces, but the army was too dis- 
organized to accomplish very much. They did 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 121 

succeed, however, in cutting off Boston from the 
surrounding country, and the inhabitants, many 
of whom sympathized with the Colonists, left 
town and took refuge in the neighboring villages. 
The British soldiers, shut up in Boston with their 
food supply from the country quite cut off, 
suffered greatly. But the arrival of British ships 
with reinforcements, headed by Burgoyne, Clin- 
ton and Howe, gave them new courage. It was 
certainly bad generalship in Gage to allow a mere 
handful of straggling Americans to close in upon 
five thousand well-disciplined troops, and when 
reinforcements arrived there were five thousand 
more who wandered about the streets and quar- 
tered themselves on the citizens with scant cere- 
mony. 

Meanwhile, Washington had been chosen Com- 
mander-in-Chief on June 15, but so slowly did 
news travel through that troubled country, that 
no word came of it. Instead, through some 
secret source, the Americans, always on the watch 
before Boston, heard that the English were plan- 
ning a sortie on June 18, intending to seize 
Dorchester Heights, to the south of the town. 
Now, the Americans, knowing their own country, 
rightly believed that if the enemy got possession 
of any of the surrounding hills, it would be im- 
possible to get them out of Boston, and that 
whatever chanced, they must guard all outlets 



122 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

from the city and must dare anything to keep 
them from the Heights. They also decided that 
it would be necessary to take possession of 
Charlestown Neck and Bunker Hill, and fortify 
them in order to repulse any advance of the 
enemy. 

What they wished to do was to keep the British 
as much as possible prisoners in the town which 
they were holding; to seize a position close to 
their lines, and then begin fighting to prevent 
their making any advance movement. It was 
all very quietly arranged; late in the afternoon 
of June 1 6, three Massachusetts regiments, two 
hundred Connecticut men, and an artillery com- 
pany, with two field pieces, were drawn up on 
Cambridge Common, to listen to the fervent 
prayer and receive the blessing of Samuel Lang- 
don, President of Harvard College. Then they 
marched away to Charlestown, intending from 
there to move to Bunker Hill, and, by working 
all night to throw up breastworks with which to 
surprise the enemy in the morning. 

Colonel Prescott commanded the little force, 
and their intrenching tools in carts brought up 
the rear. When they reached Charlestown Neck, 
they left a guard there and went on to Bunker 
Hill; but Breed's Hill, nearer the river, seemed 
a much more advantageous position, and they 
decided, after much discussion, to fortify there 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 123 

first, and Bunker Hill afterwards. The engineer, 
Colonel Richard Gridley, brother of Colonel 
Samuel Gridley, who had charge of the artillery, 
a man of great experience, marked the lines for 
the intrenchment. General Israel Putman had 
left the main army at Cambridge and had ridden 
ahead to Charlestown Neck to be on hand and 
give the men what encouragement he could 
during their long night's work. 

The tools were distributed to men far better 
trained in the art of handling them than they 
were in the art of warfare, and from twelve 
o'clock until six the following morning the muffled 
sounds of the pickaxe and the spade were all that 
broke the stillness. Colonel Prescott had sent 
a detachment of his men, under Captain Max- 
well, to patrol the lower part of the town near 
the ferry, to watch the enemies' movements. 

It was a beautiful starlit summer's night, and 
the men worked as if possessed. Part of them 
would dig in the trenches for an hour, and then 
would mount guard while the others took their 
turn. Just across the river lay Boston, girdled 
by a chain of sentinels, while five large men-of- 
war, the Falcon, the Lively, the Somerset, the 
Glasgow and the Cerverus, stood at anchor in the 
waters about them. 

From time to time the sentry's call of "All'swell" 
came to their strained ears and reassured them as 



124 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

they bent to their labors. A little before day- 
light, Colonel Prescott and Major Brooks went 
down to the shore to reconnoitre, but the presence 
of the Americans on Breed's Hill had not yet been 
discovered. At early dawn, when the intrench- 
ments were six feet high, the sailors on board the 
men-of-war first caught sight of the breastworks, 
and the captain of the Lively, without waiting 
for orders, fired a boardside at the American 
fortifications. 

At sound of the guns there was commotion 
on the Boston shore; the camp was astir, and 
crowds came out to view the strange sight. 
The Americans had done marvelous work in so 
short a time, and in spite of the firing they kept 
steadily on, strengthening the intrenchments 
and making platforms of wood and earth, to 
stand upon while they were firing. Colonel 
Prescott, an able soldier, decided that his men 
must have this screen, for, even though they 
were full of patriotism, they were at best but 
raw militia, and the thundering noise of the 
cannon at such close range almost produced a 
panic. One private was killed by a cannon ball, 
and some of the men left the hill; but the bold 
Colonel, determined to push the work as far as 
possible before the enemy attacked, mounted the 
parapet in full gun-range of the ships, and walked 
leisurely around it, encouraging his men with 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 125 

words of cheer and approval. The tall command- 
ing figure stood out in bold relief against the 
clear blue of the summer sky, and one of his cap- 
tains followed his brave example. This reassured 
the men, who fell to work with renewed vigor, 
not heeding the cannonading all aiound them. 

"Who is that person who appears to be in 
command?" asked Gage, who scanned the forti- 
fications through his glasses. Councillor Willard, 
who stood near, recognized his brother-in-law. 

"Will he fight?" inquired Gage. 

"Yes, sir, he is an old soldier and will fight as 
long as a drop of blood remains in his veins. " 

"Then," said Gage, "the works must be 
carried." And forthwith the British regulars 
were ordered on parade. 

Thus began one of the most remarkable battles 
of the war. 

The day was one of almost unbearable heat; 
the men were worn out with a night of hard work, 
and there was much suffering for lack of food 
and drink. Added to all these drawbacks, there 
was a pitifully small supply of gunpowder and 
few cannon; and, last but not least, behind those 
trenches were less than one thousand men, though 
of course in extremity the main army, encamped 
at Cambridge, could send help. 

But what they lacked in numbers they made 
up in bravery and determination. Each man 



126 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

was a volunteer, each bent on distinguishing 
himself by some deed of valor; while the leaders 
were men above reproach, fit commanders of the 
" minute men." Colonel William Prescott, a 
stalwart, seasoned soldier of many battles, was 
forty-nine years old when he took command 
that day at Breed's Hill. He was born at Groton, 
Massachusetts, and from the beginning of the 
Colonial troubles, he was on the Patriot side. 
He was chosen to command the regiment of 
"minute men," and with them, at the first 
alarm, he marched promptly into the Lexington 
fight. He was over six feet tall, with strong, intel- 
ligent features, and brown hair; like Patrick 
Henry, "he was bald on the top of his head and 
wore a tie wig. He was large and muscular but 
not corpulent. He was kind in disposition, plain 
but courteous in his manners; of a limited educa- 
tion — but fond of reading, never in a hurry, and 
cool and self-possessed in danger." 

General Israel Putnam, who left the main army 
at Cambridge to share the perils of this most un- 
equal battle, had led an eventful life. He was 
born in Salem Village — now Danvers, Massachu- 
setts — on January 7, 1718, so he was a veteran 
of fifty-seven years at the Battle of Bunker 
Hill. When he was twenty- two years old, he 
joined with families from Salem, Lynn, and other 
towns, and they established homes in a new 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 127 

colony, called Connecticut. Here Putnam 
bought a farm, settled, and reared a family, 
having married before he left Massachusetts. 
The fearless, vigorous, healthy boy developed 
into the sturdy, intrepid, pioneer farmer of 
Connecticut; and his subsequent life of adventure 
has all the interest of an exciting story. He was 
forest ranger, Indian fighter, hunter, soldier, — 
in fact he bore the marks of so many hair-breadth 
escapes that the account of him reads like a fable. 

We first hear of him in connection with the 
Colonial troubles, when the Port Bill plunged 
Boston in such distress. He was chosen by a 
committee from Brooklyn Parish, Pomfret, Con- 
necticut, to carry a letter of sympathy and en- 
couragement, and also to bring more solid com- 
fort, — for he drove before him on the journey a 
flock of one hundred and thirty sheep, also a 
gift of the Parish. 

Friend and foe alike admired Israel Putnam. 
Many on both sides had been his comrades in the 
French and Indian War, and there was keen re- 
gret among the English officers when "Old Put" 
— as he was affectionately nicknamed — arrayed 
himself on the side of the Patriots. 

He soon won his way into Washington's closest 
friendship, and proved his worth and his bravery 
by the scars of many battles. He was a bluff, 
but hearty and honest old soldier, beloved by his 



128 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

men, and an oracle among the farmers in Con- 
necticut. He it was who first called them to 
arms, and he was, in truth, eager for the conflict 
long before it came. He was supposed by many 
to have been in command of the troops on that 
eventful 17th of June; but though he was in 
the thick of the battle, and his Connecticut men 
followed him valiantly, the men from other 
Colonies were not so willing to obey him as a 
general. Many state that he ordered the battle 
from beginning to end, but the contemporary 
accounts differ widely as to who was the real 
commander, the only certainty being that Colonel 
Prescott commanded the handful of men who 
fortified Breed's Hill, and who fought so glori- 
ously on that never-to-be-forgotten day that 
saw the birth of a great army and the death of a 
great soldier. 

No man was more needed at his post than 
General Joseph Warren. He had been acting 
as President of the Provincial Congress, assem- 
bled at Watertown, on June 16, when, on passing 
through Cambridge he learned that the British 
were about to attack the fortifications at Breed's 
Hill. He at once armed himself and went to 
Charlestown. He had just been elected Major- 
General, on June 14, and had decided thereafter 
to take a more active part in the struggle for 
freedom. When he arrived on the scene of 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 129 

action on June 17, all were quick to recognize 
his authority. Putnam at once offered to re- 
ceive his orders, but Warren declined to command, 
asking only to be placed where he could be most 
useful. Putnam directed him to the redoubt, 
explaining that there he would be better pro- 
tected. But Warren replied, "Don't think I 
come to seek a place of safety ; but tell me where 
the onset will be most furious. " 

Putnam explained that, could the redoubt be 
held, even the small force of Americans could 
save the day. So Warren passed on to the re- 
doubt, where he was hailed with cheers by the 
soldiers. Here Prescott also offered him the 
command, but again Warren refused it, content 
to fight side by side with the plainest man among 
them. He fought bravely to the very end, and 
even when the retreat was ordered he was among 
the last to leave the redoubt. He had not gone 
far when a ball struck him in the forehead, and 
he fell, dying instantly. The next day, two of 
his friends, Dr. Jeffries and young Winslow, 
afterwards General Winslow, identified his body 
and buried him on the spot. When the British 
evacuated Boston, the sacred remains were again 
sought for and were this time identified by Paul 
Revere, who, being somewhat of a dentist, 
recognized the wire which he had used in placing 
a false tooth in Warren's mouth. 



130 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

All over the country his death cast its shadow. 
Mrs. John Adams wrote to her husband: "Not 
all the havoc and devastation they have made 
has wounded me like the death of Warren. We 
want him in the Senate ; we want him in his 
profession [Warren was an excellent physician]; 
we want him in the field. We mourn for the 
citizen, the senator, the physician and the war- 
rior. " Even the British had a kind word for 
the dead hero. General Howe, when told that 
he was among the killed, declared that his loss 
was equal to five hundred men. Yet, after all, 
Warren acted as only a brave officer could, and 
there was not one among the many brave officers 
who fought in the Battle of Bunker Hill who 
would not have risked his life in just the same 
way. It seemed a strange Providence that carried 
off a man in the heyday of his youth and useful- 
ness, while James Otis, whose brilliant speeches 
had stirred the Colonists to action, but whose 
shattered mind was of no more service, caught 
up a gun and plunged into the fight, returning 
to his home unhurt, the next day. 

Indeed, from the moment the battle began, the 
Americans knew that they were fighting against 
great odds. The fact that the soldiers were raw 
and undisciplined was the least drawback. They 
had worked all night in the trenches; they were 
hungry and exhausted, when the hot June sun 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 131 

shone pitilessly down upon them. They were 
outnumbered by many thousands, but even 
that would have mattered little had they been 
provided with sufficient gunpowder. For from 
their sheltered position behind the redoubt, 
they could pick off the British, man by man, 
as they came toiling up the hill, their gay uni- 
forms making fine targets for the men in the 
trenches. 

Prescott, knowing that his men were not in 
fighting condition, had sent a message to General 
Ward, at Cambridge, begging for reinforcements, 
and Putnam, since early dawn, had been urging 
haste; but Ward was afraid to weaken the Cam- 
bridge army, fearing the British meant to destroy 
their stores. The Committee of Safety was at 
last consulted, and Richard Devens, one of its 
most active members, urged that aid should be 
sent. So, after some delay, the New Hampshire 
regiments of Colonels Stark and Read were on 
their way to Breed's Hill; but when news was 
brought that, while the war-ships were bombard- 
ing in the harbor, the British troops were landing 
at Charlestown Neck, even Ward hesitated no 
longer, and sent most of his force to Charlestown 
where the British were already massing — a fine 
body of men with a brave commander at their 
head in the person of General Howe. They 
advanced a solid front to the handful of Ameri- 



132 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

cans, whose officers commanded them to wait 
until the word was given to fire. 

"Powder was scarce and must not be wasted," 
they cautioned, and the soldiers were given the 
following orders. "Fire low; aim at the waist- 
bands; wait until you see the whites of their 
eyes; aim at the handsome coats; pick off the 
Commanders." 

The pioneer life of the Americans had made 
them perfect marksmen, and their fire was given 
with such deadly effect that the British columns, 
which had marched forward so proudly and 
firmly, began to break as each separate shot 
reaped its harvest. Before long the regulars 
were in full retreat, while the Americans, elated 
with success, were ready to pursue them, but 
were held back by their officers. 

General Howe, in a short time, succeeded in 
rallying his troops, and they went forward for 
another assault, firing as they marched, and 
this time the artillery aided their advance. The 
American officers ordered their men to withhold 
their fire until the enemy were within five or 
six rods of the works. In the midst of all this, 
Charlestown had been set on fire, partly by shells 
thrown from Copp's Hill and a party of marines 
from the Somerset. 

It was a tumultuous day, from dawn until 
dark, with no rest for the combatants. The 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 133 

British advanced steadily, but with tremendous 
loss. The Americans fought steadily, but with 
ever-increasing anxiety as their powder dwindled. 
The British moved more warily to the second 
assault, stepping often on the fallen bodies of 
their comrades; they advanced, firing, but they 
aimed too high and did very little damage. The 
enemy was silent until they came into close 
range, when again a sheet of flame from behind 
the redoubt mowed them down. Still they came 
bravely on; then another deadly volley — and 
another — and another — so continuous and rapid 
that the British could advance no further, though 
they struggled forward, many falling within a 
few yards of the redoubt. Then they suddenly 
gave way and fled in confusion. 

The reinforcements were of great help to Pres- 
cott, and enabled him to send a small detachment 
of Connecticut troops, and the artillery under 
Colonel Knowlton, to oppose the enemy's right 
wing. Knowlton took up a position near the 
base of a hill, behind a stone fence. There was 
a rail on top, and he set his men to work on some 
rude fortifications. He was joined by Stark, 
with his New Hampshire men, who helped to 
strengthen their position. This fighting at the 
rail fence was even more deadly than storming 
the redoubt. Americans were, every moment, 
proving not only that they were no cowards but 



134 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

that they were fast learning how to fight. The 
second repulse of the British seemed so over- 
whelming that the Americans began to hope they 
would not try a third time. 

The untrained soldiers had behaved splendidly, 
but there was such panic in the main army at 
Cambridge that General Ward was unable to 
send Prescott all the reinforcement in men and 
ammunition that were needed to carry the day. 
The noise and din of battle, the burning of 
Charlestown, spread terror through the ranks 
where there was no real military organization. 
Orders were disobeyed and men straggled away 
from their regiments. General Putnam made 
heroic attempts to mass the men into fighting 
line, but there was much confusion, in spite of 
all his efforts. Military discipline was sadly 
needed, but more than all the present need was 
ammunition. 

With a sinking heart, Prescott saw the British 
preparing for the third assault, knowing that 
without powder and fresh troops defeat was 
certain. Should the British gain the heights, it 
would be when their hoarded stock of powder was 
exhausted, and the "minute men" had hardly 
enough bayonets for the hand to hand fight 
which was bound to follow. 

Not one moment did these fine fellows flinch 
from the task before them, while the British and 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 135 

their brave commander showed equal courage. 
Hitherto, they had rather sneered at the notion 
that a handful of raw militia could do them harm. 
Now with their dead comrades strewn about 
them, they had learned to respect their enemy. 
General Clinton now joined Howe as a volunteer, 
and helped him to marshal the reluctant troups 
for the third assault. This time the men laid 
aside their knapsacks and reserved their fire. 
They marched direct to the redoubt, the 
wings of the little army closing in on that 
point of attack, their artillery being placed in 
a postion to do the most damage to the 
breastwork. 

This it was which gave the day to the British. 
Prescott saw the whole movement; facing sure 
defeat, and perhaps death, he gave his orders 
coolly. Most of his men had only one round of 
ammunition; the best provided had no more 
than three rounds, and they were directed to 
reserve fire until the British were within twenty 
yards. Then they began to fire upon the columns ; 
for a moment, they wavered, then they sprang 
forward without returning the volley. Then the 
powder of the Americans gave out, the firing 
slackened, the British gained the parapet. One 
of their soldiers shouting, "The day is ours!" 
was shot down with all in the front ranks. A 
cannon cartridge was used to furnish powder for 



136 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the last muskets that were fired. Then the 
defenders fought with stones. 

The redoubt was successfully scaled, and the 
hand to hand fighting had begun, when Prescott 
ordered a retreat. The scene of carnage then 
began. Prescott was among the last to leave ; he 
used his sword in cutting his way through the 
British ranks, and escaped unhurt. The British, 
with cheers, took possession of the works, and 
began firing on the retreating troops. It was then 
that Warren was killed, Gridley was wounded; 
and the heroic Colonel Gardner, leading a part 
of his regiment from Bunker Hill, received his 
mortal wound. The Americans paid the death- 
toll in this retreat, but even in their moment of 
victory the British loss was tremendous. 

The defenders at the rail fence, seeing the 
retreat from Breed's Hill, began to fall back in 
wonderful order, considering the lack of dis- 
cipline. A place of great slaughter was the brow 
of Bunker Hill, whither the retreating Americans 
were flying. General Putnam, regardless of 
danger, rode among the men, urging them to re- 
new the fight in the unfinished works; and he 
stood by an artillery piece until the enemy's 
bayonets were almost upon him. The officers 
all behaved like heroes, but they could not stem 
the tide of retreat. These were not cowards 
who were flying, but stalwart men who, having 



THE BIRTH OF THE AMERICAN ARMY 137 

fought gloriously, did not stay to be butchered, 
but hastened to join the main army at Cambridge, 
eager to preserve their lives in order to offer them 
up upon some other altar of sacrifice for their 
country. 

Never was an army so cast down by victory 
as the remnant of the brave troops who re-entered 
Boston; there was mourning throughout the 
town, for the flower of the little invading army 
had been mercilessly cut off. 

Bunker Hill was a bitter, though a whole- 
some, lesson to the Americans; they learned from 
it their strength and their weakness. They 
learned that mere men, no matter how heroic, 
need something more than herosim in warfare. 
The true soldier, no matter what his personality, 
needs a commander who can insist on the strict 
and rigid obedience of an automaton. 

The " minute men, " with their reckless bravery 
had set a match to the flame of rebellion. Now 
was needed the wise, cool head, and firm hand 
to keep a rein upon this too brilliant glow of 
patriotism. 



CHAPTER VII 

OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 

TTISTORY tells us that we Americans owe 
A A our independence to Washington and 
his brave soldiers, to the Continental Con- 
gress and its patriotic leaders, and to the 
timely aid of our foreign allies. Very true, as 
far as it goes, but back of all this stood two men 
upon whom the burden fell the heaviest, who 
never failed us in our time of need. One of these 
was Robert Morris, a wealthy merchant of 
Philadelphia, and the other was Monsieur Caron 
Beaumarchais, of France, who, though of humble 
origin, had risen to high rank in the Court of 
Louis XV. Through numerous adventures he 
had become a man of great wealth, and, having 
both a musical and a literary taste, he proved a 
great favorite. The American Revolution, from 
the beginning, interested him keenly, and when 
Silas Deane and his two associates, Benjamin 
Franklin and Arthur Lee, came to Paris, he met 
them more than half-way in his offers of help. 
He not only aided them in their appeal to the 
French Government, but from his own pocket 

138 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 1 39 

provided what was lacking in funds, and opened 
a sort of a store in Paris, where, under the Spanish 
name of Roderique Hortalez & Co., he could 
secretly sell to the Americans, on credit, the sup- 
plies they could not obtain in England or else- 
where. 

Everything that money could buy in America 
for furthering the war was supplied by Robert 
Morris, and so high was his standing as a mer- 
chant that the Committee of Safety left much in 
his hands. He procured powder and arms and 
medicines ; he was banker for the committee, and 
often advanced money to them. How Washing- 
ton could have kept his army together without 
regular pay would have been the direst problem 
of the Revolution, had it not been that Robert 
Morris's purse was always open at his call. 
Morris's business firm was the well-known one 
of Willing & Morris, and both partners were mem- 
bers of the Continental Congress of 1775, though 
neither was in favor of independence, for the 
majority of Pennsylvanians did not wish to cut 
loose from England. 

However, when England determined to employ 
the aid of mercenary troops, even the most hope- 
ful could see that unless the Colonies, too, asked 
aid from outside, their cause would be lost. 
There was much excitement when it was rumored 
that France and Spain were to be approached, for 



140 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

these countries had always been enemies to the 
English Colonists. France was the first to make 
overtures; they sent over secretly an agent of 
Vergennes, then French Minister of State. He 
was Monsieur Bouvouloir, "a lame, elderly 
gentleman, of dignified and military bearing," 
and much courted by what was known as the 
''Secret Committee" of Philadelphia, but he was 
careful to promise nothing to the Americans, 
forcing them to send over their agent to France. 

It was Morris who suggested Silas Deane of 
Connecticut for the mission, perhaps because he 
could "read and understand the French language 
tolerably well" — perhaps because he was rich 
enough to make considerable show, and was an 
experienced merchant. At any rate, though he 
made many mistakes, he did succeed in convinc- 
ing the French that the Americans were in 
earnest. Beaumarchais had already secretly se- 
cured quantities of ammunition, clothing, and 
tents for 25,000 men. He also provided three 
vessels to carry these supplies, but they were 
chased by British privateers and never reached 
Portsmouth, New Hampshire, until early in 1777. 
Beaumarchais made Deane interview all the 
soldiers of fortune and adventurers who were 
eager to enlist in the cause. Conspicuous among 
these were two names forever linked with Ameri- 
can liberty; one was Frederick William Augustus 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 141 

Henry Ferdinand Von Steuben, familiarly known 
as Baron Von Steuben, and the other was Marie 
Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert Dunnotier de 
Lafayette, commonly called Marquis de Lafay- 
ette, and as such, known and loved by the Ameri- 
can people. 

Baron Von Steuben was of German origin, a 
soldier of fortune, who, having fought bravely 
under Frederick II of Prussia, better known as 
Frederick the Great, determined when the wars 
were over to spend a well-earned holiday in 
travel. It was in the service of Frederick the 
Great that he learned so thoroughly those mili- 
tary tactics and infantry management which were 
to prove so valuable in later years. 

In April, 1777, Steuben decided to visit some 
English friends, and going by way of Paris he 
stopped to meet many old friends there, among 
them the Count de St. Germain, the French 
Minister of War. The Count asked him, in- 
stead of paying him a public visit at Versailles, 
to meet him privately at the Paris Arsenal in 
three days' time ; he wished to see him on a mat- 
ter of great importance. Steuben, little dreaming 
that this meant another change in his eventful 
life, was on hand promptly to keep the mysterious 
appointment. 

Arriving in Paris on May 2, 1777, he went at 
once to see Count de St. Germain, and was con- 



142 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

ducted to a private room where the Count, after 
a friendly greeting, spread out a map of Amer- 
ica, exclaiming, "Here is your field of battle. 
Here is a Republic which you must serve. 
You are the very man she needs at this mo- 
ment. If you succeed, your fortune is made 
and you will acquire more glory than you 
could hope for in Europe for many years to 
come." 

St. Germain then explained fully America's 
need for a well disciplined army, above every- 
thing else, and that, even among the number of 
officers who had already sailed from France, there 
was not one fitted for such a task. Indeed, unless 
the army could be practically made over, all the 
help in the world would not bring the Americans 
success. 

Naturally, Steuben hesitated; he was no ad- 
venturer. He had a great reputation and a 
small but sufficient income; there was no need 
for him to engage in what looked like a desperate 
enterprise. He was, besides, not familiar with 
the English language, and knew nothing about 
the quality of the soldiers he would have to train. 
In much perplexity, he asked the Count for his 
advice, and received this reply from the wily 
courtier: "Sir, as a Minister, I have no advice 
to give you on these subjects; but as your friend, 
I would never advise you to do anything which I 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 143 

would not do myself were I not employed in the 
King's service. " 

Steuben decided to postpone his trip to Eng- 
land, and the next day St. Germain gave him a 
letter to Beaumarchais, who in turn introduced 
him to Silas Deane and Benjamin Franklin, the 
two agents then in France. His interview with 
these gentlemen was far from satisfactory, and 
Steuben was very much irritated when he re- 
ported the result of the conference to Beaumar- 
chais, who offered to defray all expenses, if that 
was the stumbling-block. Steuben did not like 
Franklin's manner, and complained of being ad- 
dressed in terms to which he "was then little 
accustomed." He decided to go back to Ger- 
many, but Germain begged him to remain a 
couple of days at Versailles to meet his old friend 
Prince de Montbarey at dinner; they were 
joined later by the Spanish ambassador, Count 
de Aranda, and Germain introduced Steuben, 
with the remark, "Here is a man who will risk 
nothing; consequently he will gain nothing." 

About this time the French interest in America 
was almost feverish. Arthur Lee, of Virginia, the 
third secret agent sent over by the Colonies, had 
represented rather forcibly to France that if no 
help came from that direction, and they were 
forced to submit to England, the Americans 
would lose no time in assisting the Mother Coun- 



144 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

try to harass and subdue her old enemy. Of 
course this threat was hidden beneath very fine 
language, and perhaps the zealous agent did not 
mean all that he said in his note, but it effectually 
stirred the French to action, for they had met the 
Colonists before in many fights. Spain was as 
anxious as France to see England beaten. That 
country had a private grudge of its own, ever 
since the destruction of the Great Armada, two 
hundred years before, and the more recent capture 
of Gibraltar, in 1704. 

France, however, was really in sympathy with 
Americans; their cry for freedom was the fore- 
runner of her own terrible Revolution; while 
Spain had only her own interests at heart and 
cared for no other nation. Among all these 
clever and determined schemers, Steuben was at 
length persuaded to consider the American proj- 
ect, finally resolving to cast in his lot with the 
fighting Colonies. He asked of the Commis- 
sioners only the proper letters of introduction to 
the right people — Washington, Samuel Adams, 
Laurens, then President of Congress, Robert 
Morris and other prominent men. He wished 
to enter the American army simply as a volunteer, 
and France, or rather Beaumarchais, defrayed 
all of his expenses. 

Later, Beaumarchais wrote to his nephew, 
Monsieur de Francy, who accompanied Baron 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 145 

Von Steuben and his French suite to America: 
"I congratulate myself . . . on having given 
so great an officer to my friends the 'free men,' and 
having in a certain way forced him to follow his 
noble career. I am in no way uneasy about the 
money I lent him to start with. Never did I make 
so agreeable use of capital, for I have put a man 
of honor in his true place. I hear that he is 
the Inspector-General of all the American troops. 
Bravo! Tell him that his glory is the interest 
of my money, and that I do not doubt that on 
these terms he will pay me with usury. " 

These few lines tell the story of Steuben's work, 
but the incidents connected with that work would 
fill a volume. Yet, without Washington's hearty 
assistance, Steuben, as a foreigner, would have 
been powerless. These two great men became 
at once the closest of friends, each being quick 
to recognize in the other those qualities which 
would best serve the country in her struggle. 

Steuben sailed for America from Marseilles, 
on September 26, 1777, on the French twenty- 
four gun ship Heureux, which had been altered 
and the name changed to Flamand. It was laden 
with a quantity of military stores for the needy 
soldiers, and the Baron's party included Peter 
S. Duponceau, his secretary and interpreter, and 
his aides, all French soldiers of fortune; he was to 
be received in America under the title of General. 



146 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

After many adventures, the Flamand reached 
the harbor of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, on 
December i, 1777. Duponceau writes: "It was 
a clear, fine day. Nature had put on her gaudiest 
attire, no doubt to receive us. " 

Steuben's biographer, knowing the New Eng- 
land coast, doubts the "gaudy attire" of Nature; 
but there was no doubt whatever about the 
"gaudy attire" of Steuben and his suite, who 
were all arrayed in red coats, with blue trimmings, 
it having been understood that the Americans 
had adopted the British uniform; so, on their ar- 
rival they were at first taken for enemies. The 
mistake was rectified, however, in a short while, 
and Steuben, stopping on the way, went by slow 
stages to Valley Forge, where Washington and 
his army were encamped for the Winter, arriving 
there on February 23, 1778. 

Here he found the undaunted Commander-in- 
Chief holding together, through the force of his 
will, the half -starved, scantily clad army which 
had dwindled from 17,000 to 5,000 men; such 
were the hardships of that cruel Winter. Steuben 
could not have taken hold at a better time, for, 
even among the officers mutiny was brewing, 
and Washington, in his need, was glad to 
have a man like Baron Von Steuben — a soldier 
above reproach — at his right hand in this time 
of trouble. 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 147 

Steuben, meanwhile, was welcomed at Valley 
Forge as one of Washington's "military family," 
and added much to the company assembled there. 
Among them were many foreign volunteers like 
himself, including Pulaski and Kosciusko, eager 
to fight for liberty, and as such honored with the 
respect and confidence of the great Commander. 
Steuben found these associates ready to help him 
in his work of reconstruction, but looked to 
General Nathanael Greene, above all, for real 
practical assistance. 

His ignorance of the English language was a 
great drawback to him at first, but his faithful 
secretary and interpreter made the way easy for 
him. Indeed, it did not require words, but a 
nod, a look, an imperative gesture, a decisive 
stamp of the booted and spurred foot, to convince 
the American troops that the foreign General 
knew what he was doing, and meant what he said. 
Steuben's work in the army has passed into 
history, but only those who lived with him 
through those times could realize the diffi- 
culties which surrounded him at the very out- 
set. Had Washington been a man of small 
mind, Steuben could never have accomplished 
what he did. As it was, he was able to get 
the poor bedraggled army into some sort of 
shape, even during that hard Winter at Valley 
Forge. 



148 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

At first he went at the work with the feelings 
of a stranger, but after a while the justice of the 
American cause appealed to his patriotism, and 
presently he cast himself, heart and soul, into 
the struggle, and rendered the country gallant 
service in the field. To tell the story of Steuben's 
labors would be to give the history of the Revolu- 
tion, which is not our purpose. History records 
the great battles, the marching and counter- 
marching, the victories and defeats; we are only 
touching lightly on the deeds of those men who 
made it possible for us to become a great nation, 
and we find it hard to brush aside the many 
incidents with which these men's lives were filled. 
But one anecdote in Steuben's career is worth 
repeating. 

Three years after he had cast in his lot with 
the Americans, Benedict Arnold's treason rang 
through the army, and when the unfortunate 
Major Andre was caught, tried, and executed as 
a spy, in Steuben's mind arose a feeling of horror 
and loathing for Arnold, the coward, whose flight 
left Andr6 alone to bear the penalty. One day, 
at roll call, when the Baron was inspecting the 
troops, a fine-looking young soldier answered to 
the name of Arnold, a name detested by Steuben. 
He sent for the man after the inspection, and 
said to him: "You are too fine a soldier to bear 
the name of a traitor; change it at once." 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 149 

''What name shall I take?" replied Arnold. 
"Any that you please; take mine if you cannot 
suit yourself better, — mine is at your service." 

Arnold at once agreed, and, thereafter, the 
name of Jonathan Steuben appeared on the 
company roll. After the war, the name became 
his legally. When he settled in his home in 
Connecticut, married, and wrote the Baron of 
the birth of a fine boy, whom he had christened 
Frederick William, Steuben promised that, when 
his namesake was twenty-one, he would give him 
a farm; and, though the great soldier was dead 
when the time arrived, the promise was remem- 
bered by those who had charge of his estate; 
the fifty acres of land the young man received 
were held in the family for many generations. 

Steuben, during his years of service, would ac- 
cept no pay as a soldier, but when peace was de- 
clared, and he found himself a beloved and hon- 
ored citizen of the New Republic, Congress set 
about providing a handsome amount as a testi- 
monial to the man and his great work, besides 
giving him a grant of land in the northwest. 
Many spots have been named in his honor, but 
the flourishing town of Steubenville, Ohio, is 
the most lasting memorial. 

Equally beloved, yet perhaps with a little more 
of the romantic halo about it, is the name of 
Lafayette, for very much against the will of his 



150 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

rich and powerful relatives this young Frenchman 
ran away from ease and luxury and a happy 
home to offer his services as a volunteer to General 
Washington, who was the hero of his dreams. 

Six weeks before the little French Marquis 
was born, the brave Monseigneur, his father, was 
killed in the Battle of Hastenback, during what 
was known in Europe as the Seven Years War, — 
the same war which was waged in America under 
the name of the French and Indian War, a war 
in which the young soldier, George Washington, 
won his spurs, while as yet little Lafayette lay in 
his ancestral cradle, not caring how the tide of 
battle turned. 

He lived with his mother, his grandmother and 
his aunts, in the manor-house of Chavaniac, in 
the Auvergne Mountains, and grew into a shy, 
plain, awkward boy, with a hook-nose, red hair, 
and a retreating forehead. But his bright eyes 
and his face full of intelligence redeemed him 
from downright ugliness. The Lafayettes of 
Chavaniac were too poor, when the boy was little, 
to live at Court, so he was country-bred until 
he was eleven, when some influential relatives 
offered to advance money for his education as a 
gentleman in Paris. He was sent to the College 
du Plessis, where he was taught all the things a 
young gentleman should know — "to express 
himself elegantly, handle his sword gracefully, 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 151 

dance delightfully, and offer his arm to a lady as 
gallantly as he could pick up her fan. " 

When he was thirteen, his mother died, also 
a rich great-uncle who left him all his wealth; 
and the young fellow found himself much courted 
by "Mamans" with marriageable daughters, for 
marriages were made very early in those times. 
The young girl selected by the boy's guardians 
and relatives as his future wife was Marie Adri- 
enne Francoise de Noailles, a daughter of the 
Duke d'Ayen, and the young Marquis lived in 
the house of his future father-in-law until he 
married his pretty fourteen-year-old fiancee, when 
he himself was sixteen. The marriage, which took 
place in April, 1774, proved a very happy one. 

The young couple participated much in the 
Court frolics of Marie Antoinette, though Lafay- 
ette often got himself into trouble by mimicking 
the high Court dignitaries. For in truth the 
boy had no use for the splendor of masks and 
fetes. He had heard of a new-born nation across 
the seas which was struggling for independence, 
and he often shook his powdered head over the 
money the extravagant young Queen wasted on 
her entertainments, wondering if it could not be 
better spent in helping these hard-pressed Pa- 
triots in America. 

The news of the conflict oyer there stirred his 
blood, which was of fighting quality, both from 



152 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

education and inheritance, and he made up his 
mind to cast in his lot with the Colonists, hoping 
some day to clasp the hand of the brave Wash- 
ington, and win renown by fighting at his side. 
Lafayette was only nineteen when this idea be- 
came a fixed resolve. He had scant sympathy 
from those to whom he confided his project, but 
his young wife had faith in him and shared his 
enthusiasm, though it would mean for her a 
weary time of separation. 

Lafayette was rich, he was influential; his 
rank had given him military training, and there 
was every reason that the services of one so 
young and ardent would be a boon to the Colon- 
ies. He first sought the active help of two young 
friends; one, a brother of his wife, Viscount 
Louis Marie de Noailles, and the other, the Count 
de Segur. The three did much secret plotting, 
for the two others, fired by Lafayette's enthusi- 
asm, were eager to join in the enterprise. 

Of course these three boys — they were little 
more — knew nothing of the American people; 
they were regarded in the aristocratic circles as 
little better than peasants; and Lafayette got 
further information from the Duke of Gloucester, 
a brother of King George of England at that time 
visiting Paris because he happened to be in dis- 
favor at the English Court. The Duke had an 
idea that only the American "peasants" were 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 1 53 

fighting for freedom; that the "gentlemen" were 
all loyal to the King. Indeed, that was the idea 
of most Europeans until they went over to see for 
themselves. 

"They are poor," said the Duke; "they are 
ill-fed, they have no gentlemen soldiers to show 
them how to fight, and the King, my brother, is 
determined to bring them into subjection by 
harsh and forcible methods, if need be. . . . 
If but the Americans were well led, I should say 
the rebellion might really develop into a serious 
affair." 

Such was the opinion, in far countries, of 
George Washington, whose heroic efforts were 
all that held the army together. It was even 
whispered in France, probably through the 
American agent, Silas Deane, that a new Com- 
mander-in-Chief might be acceptable to Congress, 
and the Count de Broglie, Commander of the 
garrison at Metz, where Lafayette and other 
young noblemen had received their military 
training, was hinted at for the position. 

The Prime Minister of France, hearing that 
many young French nobles were planning to take 
up the American cause, promptly set his foot 
down on anything of the kind, especially on the 
schemes of the three young conspirators, Lafay- 
ette, Noailles and Segur. So they had to work 
secretly and depend upon Lafayette, he being the 



154 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

only one of the trio who had any money, and 
money was sorely needed to carry out any such 
purpose. 

Lafayette finally appealed to the Count de 
Broglie himself, his former commander at Metz, 
his own and his father's friend, and although at 
first the Count flouted the idea, he at last con- 
sented to help him. De Broglie introduced him 
to Baron de Kalb, a veteran Bavarian soldier, 
who afterwards proved a brave and efficient 
leader in the American Revolution. 

He had been in America many years before, 
when the trouble between the Mother Country 
and the Colonies was first brewing, and now de 
Broglie, fired by Lafayette's enthusiasm, re- 
quested de Kalb to go again to America to confer 
with Congress, and find out how the land lay for 
a successor to George Washington. De Kalb, 
it seems, knew Silas Deane, and through him 
Lafayette was introduced to the American com- 
missioner, who was so much impressed with the 
young Marquis that he then and there drew up a 
contract appointing him Major-General in the 
American Army, at the age of nineteen. 

Deane's message to Congress ran as follows: 

"His [Lafayette's] high birth, his alliances, the 
great dignities which his family holds at this 
Court, his considerable estates in this realm, his 
personal merit, his reputation, his disinterested- 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 155 

ness, and above all his zeal for the liberty of our 
provinces, are such as have only been able to 
engage me to promise him the rank of Major- 
General in the name of the United States. In 
witness of which I have signed the present, this 
seventh of December, 1776. Silas Deane, Agent 
for the United States of America." 

We see by this that the Colonies of England no 
longer existed; the United States were born on 
July 4, 1776, and were recognized as separate 
states by France soon after. 

Lafayette had now to encounter only the strong 
resistance of his father-in-law and the French 
Court. His two friends, however, could not go 
with him; they could not obtain the necessary 
money from their fathers, nor permission from 
the King, so they had to give up their dreams of 
glory. But Lafayette was determined, though 
his father-in-law persuaded the King to forbid 
any officer of his to go to America, and the 
triumphant Duke d'Ayen advised his son-in-law 
to return to his regiment at Metz. But the 
young Marquis replied: "No Lafayette was ever 
known to turn back," and he immediately had 
inscribed on his coat-of-arms, "cur non? " — "Why 
not?" — used by some great ancestor, using it, so he 
declared, "as an encouragement and a response. " 

After this, Lafayette met Benjamin Franklin, 
and completely won the heart of the old diplomat 



156 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

by his offer to buy a ship and carry over officers 
and supplies to America. 

At last, after much playing at hide-and-seek — 
during which time he went over to England and 
had such a fine visit at the English Court that 
his anxious relatives concluded he had given up 
his "wild scheme" — he managed to slip back 
into Paris, where he hid for three days. Then 
he slipped away again, with Baron de Kalb, to 
Bordeaux, where the ship Victory, which he had 
bought and provisioned, was waiting to take them 
to America. But when the ship had sailed as far 
as the French border, in the Bay of Biscay, 
Lafayette found papers ordering him home. 
They would have had no weight with him had not 
his clever father-in-law alarmed him as to the 
state of his wife's health. So he hurried back to 
Bordeaux, leaving the Victory and his comrades. 

Baron de Kalb was quite disgusted, thinking 
the young Marquis had backed out, but he was 
mistaken. When Lafayette reached Bordeaux, 
he heard that the reports about his wife's health 
were false; so with all speed he hurried back to 
the Spanish port where the Victory still lay, and, 
after many hairbreadth adventures and escapes, 
succeeded in reaching his ship and sailing for 
America without any more hindrance, on April 
J 7> 1 777- As one of Lafayette's most interesting 
biographers tells us: "In spite of all, the ex- 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 1 57 

pedition was off; in spite of his father-in-law, and 
in spite of the King of France, the young Marquis 
had run away to sea. " 

He had some difficulty in persuading Captain 
Laboucier, the master of the ship, to steer for 
the Carolinas, instead of the West Indian port, 
for which the ship's papers were made out. At 
first the Captain refused point-blank, but Lafay- 
ette, who was really the owner of the ship, 
threatened to deprive him of his command; at 
which the Captain confessed that he had cargo 
on board intended for the West Indies, and if the 
English captured and searched the vessel, or 
some of their cruisers destroyed it, he would 
lose heavily. 

Lafayette promised to make good whatever 
loss he had, "but he made a secret agreement with 
Captain de Bedaulx, a deserting Dutch officer 
from the English army, that he and this Captain 
de Bedaulx would blow up the Victory rather than 
surrender her. " This settled, he went below and 
was desperately seasick for two weeks. 

The account of Lafayette's arrival in America, 
and all the subsequent events, is stranger than 
fiction, and much more interesting than many 
stories. He and his companions were not re- 
ceived with acclamations; the volunteers in the 
American army usually counted their services too 
high, and both Congress and Washington grew 



158 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

somwehat impatient at their demands; so that 
when Lafayette, De Kalb, and Monsieur Price 
reached Philadelphia from " Charles's Town" 
[Charleston, South Carolina], where they landed, 
and went to Independence Hall to interview Presi- 
dent John Hancock, of the Congress, they were 
received very curtly, with scarcely a word of 
welcome, and were referred to Gouverneur Morris, 
the chairman of the committee, who had such mat- 
ters in charge. Mr. Morris, with scant courtesy, 
passed them on to Mr. Lovell, who treated them 
like a set of adventurers, and would promise them 
nothing. 

De Kalb and Price were most indignant, and 
wanted to turn back, but Lafayette was un- 
daunted. "If the Congress will not accept me as 
Major-General, " he said, " I will fight for Ameri- 
can liberty as a volunteer." And he forthwith 
wrote a straightforward letter to Hancock, ex- 
plaining the situation and asking but two favors 
of Congress, "First, that I serve without pay 
and at my own expense ; and the other, that I be 
allowed to serve at first as a volunteer. " 

This turned the scale in his favor. He had 
another interview with a more courteous member 
of Congress, and, on July 31, 1777, Congress 
passed the following resolution : 

"Whereas, the Marquis de Lafayette, out of 
his great zeal to the cause of liberty, in which 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 1 59 

the United States are engaged, has left his 
family and connections, and at his own expense 
come over to offer his services to the United 
States, without pension or particular allowance, 
and is anxious to risk his life in our cause, there- 
fore Resolved, that his services be accepted, and, 
that in consideration of his zeal, illustrious 
family, and connections, he have the rank and 
commission of Major-General in the Army of the 
United States." 

Lafayette did not forget his two friends; his 
persistent efforts in Congress to have them also 
placed in the army were soon successful, Baron de 
Kalb securing a Major-General's commission, but 
he soon found that a new Commander-in-Chief was 
not desired by the Americans. They wished no 
better man than George Washington. 

Lafayette expressed to Hancock the desire 
to serve "near the person of General Washington 
until such a time as he may think proper to en- 
trust me with a division of the army." 

Then began the brilliant career which history 
has immortalized. The little Frenchman's figure 
grows heroic when we read of his retreat across 
the Schuylkill, his cavalry charge at Monmouth, 
and his brave work at the siege of Yorktown. 
Washington, who loved to gather the young 
soldiers about him, adored this ardent young 
Frenchman, whom he treated as his own son. 



160 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

There were two other foreigners, Polish gentle- 
men of high repute, who joined the great Com- 
mander's military family, and added much glory 
to the cause of liberty. Their names were 
Thaddeus Kosciusko, and Casimir Pulaski, both 
patriots in their own country and therefore eager 
to lend their aid in righting the wrongs of other 
nations. Like Lafayette, they offered their serv- 
ices with no thought of payment, and Washington 
placed the highest confidence in their honor and 
ability. 

The history of Thaddeus Kosciusko is the 
history of Poland, for whom he would gladly have 
laid down his life. His oppressed country weighed 
upon his great soul, and wherever in other coun- 
tries there existed oppression and cruelty, there 
went the Polish patriot to fight injustice. He 
was quite a young man when the trouble arose 
between England and her Colonies. He had 
already won a name at the military school in 
Warsaw, from which he had recently graduated 
with great honor, after which he had travelled in 
western Europe for five years, lingering longest 
in France, in order to study military tactics in 
which that country excelled. After his return 
to his own distracted country, he took up arms 
in her defense and was made a captain of artillery. 
In his spare moments, he became the tutor of a 
beautiful Polish lady to whom he gave lessons 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES l6l 

in drawing and history, and with whom he fell des- 
perately in love ; she returned his affection in the 
face of much opposition, for he was a poor young 
student and she was a great lady, but the course 
of true love did not run smooth ; the fair Ludwika 
Sosnowska's irate father spirited the maiden 
away as soon as he heard of what was going on, 
and the lovers thus parted never met again. 
The despairing young lover determined to leave 
his country and seek military service in France 
and it was while in Paris that he heard of Ameri- 
ca's struggle for independence and also that such 
experienced help as his would be worth its weight 
in gold. So he, like Lafayette, obtained letters 
of introduction to all the known leaders of the 
Patriot army, and in the summer of 1776 he 
reached the American camp. 

"I have come over to fight as a volunteer for 
American independence," he announced when 
Washington questioned him. "What can you 
do?" asked the great commander. "Try me," 
was the answer, and for eight long years we did 
try him while he fought side by side with Lafay- 
ette, De Kalb, Steuben, Rochambeau and several 
other well-known foreigners. His engineering 
knowledge was of great service in fort-building, 
the science of which he taught the army, and 
he began his services as Colonel of engineers and 
a member of Washington's staff. He it was who 



162 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

planned Gates's fortified camp at Bemis Heights, 
and he was the chief engineer in the work at West 
Point. His greatest service, however, was to 
General Greene during his southern campaign, 
and he was one of the chief actors during the 
siege of Yorktown. Congress gave him a vote 
of thanks and made him a Brigadier-General, 
and the new Nation showed its appreciation in 
many ways. 

After we had no further need of his services 
Kosciusko returned to Poland where, shortly 
after, he was made a prisoner and kept in a 
dungeon for two years, by his Russian captors. 
He visited America some time after his release, 
and was received with popular enthusiasm, and, 
while in 1797 there were no more battles to 
fight for the United States of America, he knew 
enough of state-craft and diplomacy to guide 
our government in its relations with Europe. 
His sympathy, always exerted to the cause 
of freedom, naturally turned to the negro 
slaves in America, and he found a kindred 
spirit in Thomas Jefferson who thought as 
he did, and between these two sincere and 
ardent Patriots a lasting friendship was ce- 
mented. Kosciusko, who was a fine artist, made 
a pastel of his American friend, which he de- 
clared was the best piece of work he had ever 
done. 



OUR FOREIGN ALLIES 1 63 

Our country has honored his memory in many 
ways, though we have but few real monuments 
of this Polish hero. Indeed, his greatest monu- 
ment is our military stronghold at West Point — 
a triumph, in those early days, of his engineering 
skill. On this second visit to America Congress 
gave him a grant of land and a pension which he 
left by will to Jefferson to be used in purchasing 
slaves and giving them their liberty. 

He fought hard to save Poland, but he failed, 
and, broken in health after a long illness, he 
retired to a little farm in Switzerland where two 
years later he died. 

Kosciusko, though not a Polish noble, came of 
fine old stock and was the hero of Miss Jane 
Porter's romance, "Thaddeus of Warsaw," which 
enjoyed a wide popularity which must have 
greatly pleased this fine old soldier. 

Casimir Pulaski was a Count in his own right, 
and America's debt of gratitude could never be 
cancelled to this hero who laid down his life in 
her cause. In 1778, he raised and organized a 
corps of sixty-eight light horse and two hundred 
foot. "This was known as Pulaski's Legion and 
was recruited chiefly in Pennsylvania and Mary- 
land." 

A very beautiful banner was presented to this 
regiment by the Moravian Sisters of Bethlehem 
as a token of their gratitude for the protection the 



164 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

chivalrous Pole and his company had been to 
them, surrounded as they were by rough and 
uncouth soldiers. Another story runs, that Gen- 
eral Pulaski had heard of their beautiful embroid- 
ery and had ordered them to make the banner. 

Pulaski distinguished himself in the southern 
campaign under General Greene and fell mor- 
tally wounded before Savannah, Georgia, in the 
Autumn of 1779, when things were looking very 
black for the sorely pressed Continentals. Paul 
Bentalou, one of his captains, carried him aboard 
the United States brig Wasp where he died — and 
his mourning comrades buried him at sea. 

"Kosciusko and Pulaski were two heroic souls 
whose names are perpetuated in many counties, 
cities and streets throughout the country" — 
thus writes an ardent admirer of both Patriots, 
and Washington kept close to his person this 
handful of loyal soldiers from strange lands. 
De Kalb, Pulaski, Kosciusko, Steuben and 
Lafayette fill many glorious pages in the history 
of the Revolution. There were others, too, who 
fought bravely and dyed our battle-fields with 
their blood, but these five names stand out upon 
our roll of honor. Without them, America 
might have fought for liberty — and failed. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 

P I^HE story of the Revolution told to-day by 
A able historians is a fascinating study of 
the American people. How easily one's imagin- 
ation can step backward, and how wonderfully 
vivid are pictures of over one hundred and thirty 
years ago, thrown out upon the magic-lantern 
screen of time. How the lines are softened! 
How nobly this or that commanding officer 
stands forth at the head of his army ; how plainly 
the whole conflict spreads out before us! How 
simple it all seems as we sit in our beautiful 
libraries with books and maps spread out before 
us, and trace the lines of battle as Washington 
pursued the British host after the evacuation of 
Boston, fighting for the Hudson, inch by inch, 
to the very gates of New York. 

Clever artists have shown us wonderfully 
inspiring pictures, such as the reading of the 
Declaration of Independence to Washington's 
troops in New York City, where they stood up 
in martial and festive array, in what is now City 
Hall Park. Old St. Paul's is in the background, 

165 



1 66 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

and the solid front of neatly dressed Contin- 
entals, faced by General Washington on his 
white horse, the centre of a group of gallant 
officers, gives no hint of the motley army that 
was probably huddled behind. And when, in 
another picture, we see the sturdy Patriots of 
New York celebrating the Declaration, by pulling 
down the leaden statue of King George, which 
later they melted into bullets for the American 
soldiers, we, too, are fired with the echoes of 
that patriotism which stirred our fighting ances- 
tors. 

In the din of battle the voices of the high- 
minded men who lighted the torch of revolt 
could scarcely be heard. Congress was now in 
the hands of men with more selfish aims, who, 
while still expressing the most patriotic devotion 
to their country, were privately scheming for 
themselves and their friends. It is an unfailing 
fact that the man who stands first in the public 
eye, is the man with whom the public first finds 
fault. Concerning General Washington, there 
had been murmurs of dissatisfaction from the 
moment he took command of the Continental 
Army. He had never sought the position, and 
he was over-modest concerning his ability. 

"Take away for an instant," wrote Lafayette 
to Washington, "that modest diffidence of your- 
self (which, pardon my freedom, my dear Gen- 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 167 

eral, is sometimes too great; and I wish you 
could know as well as myself what difference there 
is between you and any other man) and you would 
see very plainly that, if you were lost for America, 
there is no one who could keep the army and the 
revolution for six months." 

It was no doubt this very evident truth which 
held Washington calmly at his post during all 
those months of uncertain campaigning, when 
the Americans had to feel their way from one 
position to the other. If he heard the murmurs 
of Congress, he held his peace, even when John 
Adams, the very man who had suggested his 
name as Commander-in-Chief, complained loudly 
of his many apparent failures and Gates's suc- 
cesses — the only achievement of the latter being 
that circumstances had been so arranged for him 
that he could not prevent the surrender of Bur- 
goyne after the Battle of Saratoga. General 
Schuyler had prepared the way, had placed his 
regiments, had arranged the order of battle; 
then Congress, suddenly and unjustly transferred 
his command to Gates, when victory was already 
more than half won. 

Because Washington refused to take rash 
chances which would unnecessarily expose his 
untried army, he was pronounced, by many, in- 
capable of conducting the war. General Charles 
Lee did all he could to strengthen the feeling 



168 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

against his Chief, and was one of the ringleaders 
of a conspiracy known as the " Conway Cabal," 
whose chief object was to force Washington from 
his command. Thomas Conway, born in Ire- 
land but educated in France, had come over with 
a set of French adventurers, and had wormed 
himself into favor with Congress, which appointed 
him Inspector-General of the army. This was 
some time before Baron Steuben was sent for. 
But Conway had no thought of bettering the 
army; his one idea was to help himself, and this 
he did by stirring the discontented young French 
officers to rebellion. When Lafayette came 
among them and won the warm affection of his 
Commander, they tried to use him as a catspaw. 
When they found, however, that the young 
Marquis stood loyally by Washington, these 
"hungry adventurers" influenced Congress to 
order the invasion of Canada and give the com- 
mand to Lafayette, hoping in that way to separ- 
ate him from the influence of the Commander- 
in-Chief. But Lafayette, suspecting mischief, 
refused to lead, except under Washington's 
orders, and with De Kalb as second in command. 
This upset all the plans of the conspirators, as 
Lafayette laid the case before Congress, which 
yielded to his demands. 

One of Conway's letters to Gates, in which he 
spoke of "a weak general and bad counsellors," 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 1 69 

came to Washington's knowledge, and, with 
this piece of evidence in his hand, the Com- 
mander-in-Chief was not backward in making 
both Conway and Gates most uncomfortable. 
Conway, after vainly trying to apologize, finally 
resigned. Gates, too, tried to get out of all 
responsibility, but Washington pursued him 
about the letter from Conway, keeping him 
twisting and turning all the winter. 

The Conway party was still very strong, and 
influenced Congress to appoint a new War 
Board, with Gates and Thomas Mifflin, another 
enemy of Washington, at the head of it. This 
Board appointed Conway Inspector-General, 
with the title of Major-General — an appoint- 
ment which Washington some time before had 
refused to recommend, because "Conway's merit 
and importance existed more in his own imagina- 
tion than in reality." By this appointment 
Congress hoped to make Washington resign, 
but they were disappointed; he was not a man 
to enter lightly into a great struggle, and, as long 
as he felt sure he was in the right, nothing could 
move him. 

When Conway came to camp as Major-Gen- 
eral, Washington treated him with coldness and 
indifference, and, finding that no slight or insult 
had the slightest effect on him, the new War 
Board began quarreling among themselves. 



170 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Gates was sent to his command, and Conway, 
resigning in a rage, was taken at his word; he 
then fought a duel with General Cadwalader, a 
friend of Washington, was badly wounded, wrote 
a contrite note to the Commander-in-Chief, and, 
on recovering, left the country. So ended the 
"Conway Cabal," and little by little the powers 
that controlled Congress began to understand 
the true genius of their leader, who had no other 
thought than his country's welfare in his Patriot 
heart, and who served that sometimes ungrateful 
country for eight years without a cent of pay. 

Of Gates's treachery, Washington was never 
quite sure, but of General Charles Lee's double 
dealing there was no room for doubt; his many 
questionable deeds have cast their own shadow 
on the pages of history. He was a jealous, in- 
triguing adventurer, born in England in 1731 ; he 
was in no way related to the Virginia Lees. 
After a life of varied experience as a soldier of 
fortune — both at home and abroad — he came to 
America, in 1773, and took up the cause of the 
Colonies, not because he was particularly inter- 
ested in the Americans but because he had a 
grudge against England. 

It seems strange that both Lee and Gates 
should have been English adventurers who joined 
the American struggle because the Mother 
Country had not given them what they wished 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 1 71 

in the way of military promotion. They both 
purchased estates in Virginia at a time when mat- 
ters in the Colony were reaching a climax, and 
both were frequent visitors at Washington's 
home, where the leading Patriots often met to 
discuss public affairs. Gates never really proved 
himself a villain, but Lee, from the very first, 
kept in touch with the British authorities, even 
when he assumed the duties of Major-General at 
the siege of Boston. This irritated the Massa- 
chusetts Congress, and Lee, finding things un- 
pleasant, asked to be assigned to a separate 
command. 

Washington, true leader of men, early discov- 
ered that Lee was both "violent and fickle," and, 
as time went on, he proved the most dangerous 
man in the army. For, as he carried a per- 
manent chip on his own shoulder, he was always 
sowing discontent among others. On one occa- 
sion, while events were crowding on New Jersey, 
Lee spent a night at a tavern a few miles from 
Morristown, and, while there wrote a confiden- 
tial letter to Gates, severely criticising "a certain 
great man." He had just finished, when thirty 
British soldiers surrounded the house and they 
carried him off in his dressing-gown and slippers. 

At heart a coward, he was mortally afraid of 
being treated as a deserter from the British 
army, which indeed he was, and his captors did 



172 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

not try to reassure him. His capture was re- 
garded as a disaster to the Americans, while in 
truth it was a great blessing, for he was a most 
untrustworthy person. But even Washington 
had not grasped the fact, and when he heard 
that Lee was confined as a prisoner in New York 
City Hall, and in danger of being hung, he noti- 
fied Lord William Howe that he held five Hessian 
officers as hostages for Lee's safety; that there 
would be no further exchange of prisoners until 
the British agreed to treat Lee as a prisoner of 
war. 

The Howes were planning to send him to 
England for trial, and, when Washington's 
message arrived, Lee was actually on board ship; 
but Lord Howe complied with the request of 
the American General. Meantime, a year had 
passed, and, Satan finding mischief for idle hands 
to do, Lee planned to "sell out" to the English, 
— that is, to betray the Patriots. But he took 
care to conceal his tracks, and it was not until 
eighty years afterwards that his treason was 
discovered. He made the Howes believe that 
he had influence with Congress, and told them 
the Colonists would be willing to enter into peace 
negotiations and return to their allegiance. 
When this had proved false, he planned a cam- 
paign by which the British would be able to 
capture Philadelphia, saying that, if Howe were 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 173 

in possession of the rebel capital, he could dictate 
terms to the Americans. 

Meantime, the unsuspecting Americans, having 
captured a British General, Prescott, offered 
him in exchange for Lee, whom the British were 
glad to give up, thinking that he would be of 
more service to them in the American camp, 
where he would be better able to furnish informa- 
tion. Immediately on his arrival at Valley 
Forge, he began to put all sorts of obstacles in 
Washington's way. In the Battle of Monmouth 
he nearly caused disaster by calmly disobeying 
and wilfully misunderstanding Washington's 
orders; had it not been for the prompt action of 
Lafayette, Wayne, Maxwell, Steuben, and Wash- 
ington, himself, who dashed in among Lee's 
fleeing soldiers and wheeled them around once 
more to the conflict, the day would have been 
lost. What promised to be a complete rout 
proved on the whole a victory for the Americans. 
But Howe's final occupation of Philadelphia was 
due in a great measure to Lee's treachery. 

Lee's behavior at this time led to an inquiry 
by Congress. He was unfortunate enough, too, 
to entangle himself by an open controversy with 
Washington, after which he was arrested, court- 
martialed, found guilty "of disobedience of orders 
in not attacking the enemy, misbehavior on the 
field, in making an unnecessary and shameful 



174 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

retreat, and gross disrespect to the Commander- 
in-Chief." 

His sentence of suspension for one year was 
too mild a punishment for a man whose pockets 
were already filled with British gold, but the 
unsuspecting Americans did not know of his 
treacherous dealings. After the Battle of Mon- 
mouth, Lee seems to have dropped out of the 
service, but his attacks on Washington through 
the press became so violent that Colonel Laurens, 
one of the General's aides, challenged him, and, 
in the duel which followed, wounded him in the 
side. In 1779, he retired to his plantation in 
Virginia and led a hermit's life, with his dogs and 
horse, "in a shell of a house, the different apart- 
ments of which were indicated by chalk lines on 
the floor." 

When the year's suspension was near an end, 
he heard that Congress was planning to drop 
him from the service, whereupon he wrote such 
an insolent letter to the President of Congress 
that he was promptly dismissed. Shortly after- 
wards, while in Philadelphia negotiating for the 
sale of his Virginia property, he was stricken 
with fever and died in some out-of-the-way inn. 
One clause of his will reads: "I desire most 
earnestly that I may not be buried in any church 
or churchyard, or within a mile of any Presby- 
terian or Baptist meeting-house, for, since I 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 175 

have resided in this country, I have kept so 
much bad company while living, that I do not 
choose to continue it when I am dead." 

Nevertheless, all honor was paid to the trouble- 
some spirit, then at rest forever. He had a mili- 
tary funeral and was buried in the yard of Christ 
Church, Philadelphia, and all thought him an 
honest, though a mistaken man. The proofs 
of his treason were hidden away for many years 
among the archives of an English manor-house. 

Another incident which hurt the Patriot 
leaders was the discovered treason of Doctor 
Benjamin Church. From the days of the Stamp 
Act, he had been one of the most active members 
of the New England Sons of Liberty. All its 
secret councils, which were held behind closed 
doors, were attended by him, and no man knew 
better than he the precautions the Colonies had 
taken for self-protection. After the excitement 
of Paul Revere's ride, and the Battles of Lexing- 
ton and Concord, the more thoughtful began to 
wonder how it happened that the British knew 
of the military stores at Concord, — a fact known 
only to a handful of trusted men. In the hurry of 
events, this little point was overlooked ; but some- 
time afterwards, during the siege of Boston, sus- 
picion pointed a finger at Doctor Church, who 
was discovered to be in secret communication 
with the enemy. He sent a letter by a woman, 



176 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

who was going to Newport, to the Captain of the 
British man-of-war stationed there; she applied 
to a Patriot by the name of Mainwood to help 
her reach the ship. 

By clever questioning, he drew from her the 
fact that she had an important letter to deliver. 
The woman seemed so confused that his sus- 
picions were aroused, and, fearing there might be a 
traitor in the army, he prevailed on her to allow 
him to deliver the letter. After consulting with 
another Patriot, named Maxwell, the two decided 
to open the letter, which they found written in 
cipher. They took the strange document to 
Mr. Henry Ward, of Providence, who, in his 
turn, sent it, with an explanation, to General 
Greene, in camp. The latter promptly laid the 
whole matter before Washington. The woman 
was examined, and owned that Doctor Church 
had given her the letter. 

Doctor Church was immediately arrested. 
The letter, when deciphered, was a description 
of the American forces, but contained no special 
disclosures and told no secrets. He wrote to 
Washington stating that his only object was to 
end the war, and that he was innocent of any 
treason. The Council in camp was not satis- 
fied, and Congress took up the case, keeping 
Church a close prisoner meanwhile. Congress 
at last decided that he must stand trial in the 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 177 

General Court of Massachusetts, and there he 
made a poor and blundering defense, which 
failed to prove his innocence. He was expelled 
from his seat in Congress, and was closely con- 
fined in a jail in Norwich, Connecticut, "without 
the use of pen, ink, or paper, and that no person 
be allowed to converse with him, except in the 
presence and hearing of a Magistrate of the town, 
or Sheriff of the county where he should be 
confined, and in the English language, until 
further order of Congress." 

Here he stayed from November until May, 
when he begged for his release on account of 
ill health. This was granted, provided he went 
back to Massachusetts and was put in the charge 
of the Council of the Colony; he gave his parole 
not to hold correspondence with the enemy, or 
to leave the Colony without permission. He 
returned to Boston, and, during the year 1776, 
obtained leave to go to the West Indies. The 
vessel on which he sailed must have been lost; it 
was never heard of again, and Doctor Church 
doubtless perished with all his guilty secrets. 
These experiences had the effect of making the 
Americans very cautious, and to the credit of 
the Patriots be it said there were very few traitors 
in the camp. 

Now we come to a dark shadow, indeed; an 
event which cast a gloom over the American 



178 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

army. In the quiet country town of New Lon- 
don, Connecticut, the alarm of war startled the 
villagers from their dreams of peace and plenty. 
A messenger, riding post-haste, brought the news 
of Lexington and Concord, on April 21, 1775, 
and a big meeting was held at the court-house, 
just as the shadows fell around the strange day. 
One of the speakers on this occasion was the 
young preceptor of the Union Grammar School, 
Nathan Hale, — beloved and respected among 
the people of New London. His presence, as he 
rose to speak, was most imposing. He was 
almost six feet tall, splendidly proportioned, 
broad-chested and muscular, with a face of 
singular beauty, a ruddy complexion, blue eyes, 
and soft light brown hair, and a voice low and 
musical that thrilled his hearers as he spoke. 

"Let us march immediately," he cried, "and 
never lay down our arms until we have obtained 
our independence!" 

This was said to be the first public demand for 
independence, made at the beginning of the 
Revolution. Nathan Hale was quite unlike the 
ordinary school teacher of his time. He had a 
thirst for knowledge and was very studious. His 
father — a strict Puritan — was anxious for him 
to become a minister, and he was fitted for 
college, entering Yale in the sixteenth year of 
his age (he was born in 1755). He graduated 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 1 79 

in 1773, with the highest honors, a great favorite 
with students, tutors, and the faculty. 

Jared Sparks says of him: 

"Possessing genius, taste, and order, he be- 
came distinguished as a scholar; and, endowed 
in an eminent degree with those graces and gifts 
of Nature which add a charm to youthful excel- 
lence, he gained universal esteem and confi- 
dence. To high moral worth and irreproachable 
habits were joined gentleness of manner, an 
ingenuous disposition and vigor of understanding. 
No young man of his years put forth a fairer 
promise of future usefulness and celebrity; the 
fortunes of none were fostered more sincerely, 
by the generous good wishes of his associates, 
and the hopes and encouraging presages of his 
superiors." 

Such was the man who died, in the service of 
his country, the shameful death of a spy. 

We always speak of spies and traitors in the 
same breath, chiefly because the punishment 
meted out for either offense is the same ; but spies 
are far from traitors, and, from the history of the 
earliest wars, to these more modern times, the 
spy has given the dramatic touch to every cam- 
paign. Scarcely a great battle has been fought 
without that powerful aid, and in most cases spies 
have been men and women, chosen because of 
their patriotism, faithfulness, and endurance. 



180 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

If successful in their missions they have been 
raised to high places; if unsuccessful — they have 
died the death of martyrs. 

When, early in September, Lieutenant Nathan 
Hale marched away with his regiment to help 
in the siege of Boston, he was filled with the 
ardor of the young Patriot; in January he was 
made a Captain, and was with Washington's 
army, when, after the evacuation of Boston, 
the Americans marched to New York. Soon 
after his arrival in New York, General Heath 
gave him permission to attempt the capture of a 
British sloop, laden with provisions, which was 
anchored in the East River under the protection 
of the war-ship Asia. Hale and a few picked 
men went in a whale-boat, silently at midnight, 
to the side of the sloop, sprang on deck, secured 
the sentinels, confined the crew below the hatches, 
raised her anchor, and, with Hale at the helm, 
brought her into port in the early dawn. The 
victors were greeted with joyous shouts, and the 
provisions were quickly distributed among the 
hungry soldiers. 

We hear little of Nathan Hale during Wash- 
ington's retreat from Long Island and through 
the greater part of that disastrous summer. He 
had been left behind with the troops in New 
York, under General Putnam, when Howe's 
army invaded Long Island, being reported on 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION l8l 

the sick list; but he joined the retreating forces 
on their way to Harlem Heights in September. 
Washington had made his headquarters on Mur- 
ray Hill, at the home of Robert Murray, a rich 
Quaker merchant, and there Nathan Hale was 
summoned to receive secret instructions for a 
most important mission. 

The American army was in a most perilous 
position; the British were surrounding them on 
all sides, except toward the north, and Washing- 
ton, in his masterly retreat, succeeded in making 
a temporary stronghold wherever he struck the 
heights. Scouts had brought word that two 
war-ships had passed up the East River, and 
that, on every side, the enemy seemed to be 
making active preparations. But beyond that, 
Washington could get no information ; he did not 
know from what direction the British would aim 
their attack. 

After a council of war it was resolved to send 
some competent person in disguise to the British 
camp on Long Island, in order to find out the 
secret. "It needed," said Lossing, one of Hale's 
biographers, "one skilled in military and scien- 
tific knowledge, and a good draughtsman; a man 
possessed of a quick eye, a cool head, unflinch- 
ing courage, tact, caution and sagacity." Col- 
onel Knowlton was directed by Washington to 
ask for the volunteer services of such a man. 



182 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Knowlton summoned a number of officers to 
his quarters, and delivered Washington's message, 
which was received in stunned silence; any mis- 
sion of adventure, no matter what the danger, 
would have found them ready and eager either 
to go alone or to lead their men, but to become a 
spy — a character held up to the scorn of nations 
since the world began — aroused their resentment. 
Almost to a man they refused ; the shame would 
be too much; the disgraceful death in case of 
discovery daunted them all! Knowlton was in 
despair, when at last a single voice from the 
group of officers said firmly, "I will undertake 
it," and all eyes turned at once upon the pale 
young soldier who stepped forward. It was 
Nathan Hale, bearing still the traces of his recent 
illness. In vain his comrades tried to dissuade 
him, for he was known and loved by them all, 
but his answer was firm : 

" Gentlemen, I think I owe my country the 
accomplishment of an object so important and 
so much desired by the Commander of her armies, 
and I know no mode of obtaining the information 
but by assuming a disguise and passing into the 
enemy's camp. I am fully sensible of the con- 
sequences of discovery and capture in such a 
situation. But for a year I have been attached 
to the army and have not rendered any material 
service, while receiving a compensation for which 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 183 

I make no return. Yet I am not influenced by 
any expectation of promotion or pecuniary 
reward. I wish to be useful; and every kind of 
service necessary for the public good, becomes 
honorable by being necessary. If the exigencies 
of my country demand a peculiar service, its 
claims to the performance of that service are 
imperious." 

So spoke the Patriot, who could not see in the 
performance of his duty anything ignoble. To 
send such a man rushing on his fate was hard 
for a Commander like Washington, to whom the 
young men in his army were most dear; nor did 
he require of his faithful followers any service 
which, could their positions be reversed, he 
would not have undertaken himself. 

Receiving his instructions, Hale left the camp 
on Harlem Heights, accompanied by Sergeant 
Stephen Hempstead, a member of his company, 
and his own servant, one Ansel Wright. Wash- 
ington gave him a general order to all owners of 
American vessels in Long Island Sound to carry 
him to any point he might wish. He found, on 
reaching the Sound, that he would have to go 
some distance up the country before attempting 
to cross, for the Sound was full of small British 
cruisers. The coast was not clear until they 
reached Norwalk, where Hale bade his compan- 
ions good-by. Here he changed his uniform for 



1 84 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

a citizen's dress of brown cloth, and a broad- 
brimmed round hat, and, leaving his clothes, his 
military commission, and other papers with 
Hempstead, bade them await his return at Nor- 
walk. On the morning of September 20, they 
were to be sure and send a boat for him. 

That was the last seen or heard of him by his 
friends until the news of his dreadful fate filled 
the camp with gloom. There was no one to tell 
his story as it really happened. It is known 
that he crossed the Sound to Huntington Bay, 
that he assumed the character of a loyalist school- 
master, disgusted with the " rebels" and in 
quest of an engagement as a teacher. The Brit- 
ish received him very kindly; he was permitted 
to visit all the camps, and was soon a great 
favorite with everybody. Then he went over 
from Brooklyn to New York, which had been 
taken by the British since his departure, making 
drawings and taking notes on his way; still 
unsuspected, he made his way through the camps 
again, back to Huntington Bay to wait for the 
boat. 

Here he rested for the night, at the same tavern 
where he had stopped when he set out on his 
journey; it was called "The Cedars," and was 
kept by the Widow Chichester, a staunch loyal- 
ist. Feeling secure in his disguise, Hale entered 
a room where were assembled a number of per- 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 1 85 

sons. One man, whose face seemed strangely 
familiar to him, suddenly disappeared, and was 
supposed by many to be a Tory kinsman of 
Hale's who, recognizing him, betrayed him into 
the hands of the enemy, but this is only a sur- 
mise. Hale spent the night at the tavern and 
the next morning very early he was up and on 
the lookout for the expected boat. 

He saw it coming, and, joyously running to 
meet it, found it was a barge bearing British 
marines. As he turned to escape, a loud voice 
called, "Surrender or die!" and six guns were 
leveled at him. They seized him and carried 
him to the guard-ship Halifax, where he was 
searched, and the telltale papers he was carrying 
back to Washington were found concealed be- 
tween the soles of his shoes. He was taken to 
Howe's headquarters, the residence of James 
Beekman, at Mount Pleasant, situated at what 
is now Fifty-first Street, near First Avenue. It 
had been deserted by its Whig owner and was 
occupied as headquarters for the British generals 
up to the close of the Revolution. 

Hale was confined in the Beekman greenhouse 
on Saturday, September 21, the night of New 
York's big fire, supposed to have been started by 
incendiary Whigs. In his interview with Howe 
he was manly and direct, deeply touching the 
kind-hearted Commander; but the rules of war 



1 86 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

were strict and there was no escaping his doom. 
Hale was handed over to his executioners, who 
happened to be more than ordinarily brutal. 
He was in charge of William Cunningham, the 
notorious British provost-marshal, who had or- 
ders to execute him before sunrise the next day. 

He was allowed to write some letters to his 
mother and sisters, and to the fair young girl 
who had promised to marry him, but Cunning- 
ham laughed them to scorn when he read them, 
and tore them up before him. Had it not been 
for the presence at the place of execution (East 
Broadway and Market Street) of a young British 
commander stationed near by, no word would 
have come to us of Hale's last moments. 
But we can picture to ourselves the Sabbath 
stillness of the day, and the heroic young fel- 
low bound with cords, the noose about his 
neck, the brave blue eyes looking beyond the 
tragedy he was to play, and seeing the glory of 
the skies. 

"I only regret that I have but one life to lose 
for my country" were the last words of Nathan 
Hale, and they are stamped upon the base of the 
simple column, erected to his memory, in Coven- 
try, Connecticut, where he was born; and here 
in New York where he died stands a beautiful 
statue of the Patriot martyr, inscribed with the 
same heroic words. 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 187 

It seems strange that the fate of Nathan Hale 
should not have been a lesson and a warning, 
but the darker tragedy now looming on the 
horizon proves that even the most daring of 
conspirators may be singularly short-sighted. 
Had General Washington been asked to point out 
his most trusted and brilliant officers, he would 
not have failed to place upon the list the name 
of Benedict Arnold. In his long career of mili- 
tary usefulness was written almost the entire 
history of the American Revolution. 

Born at Norwich, Connecticut, on January 14, 
174.1, he was well-provided with honored ances- 
tors, and the name of Benedict had been in the 
family for many generations. His boyhood, 
like that of other provincial boys, might have 
passed unnoticed but for his checkered career. 
He is described as "active as lightning, with a 
ready wit always at command. He early devel- 
oped the qualities of a natural leader." His 
boldness and daring, in boyhood as well as in 
manhood, caused him to be regarded as very 
brave, though as we shall see, when the time 
came, he lacked the moral courage which is true 
bravery. "He was generous, and his sympathies 
were always with the weak ; he was the champion 
of the smaller lads and those of his own age, and 
no bully was ever permitted in his presence to 
practice any injustice upon the younger boys. 



1 88 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

He was kind to his friends but would never sub- 
mit to force." Such was Arnold, the boy, and 
such in after years was Arnold the man; "kind 
to his friends, but would never submit to force." 

Could we trace his brilliant services in many 
battles, we, who condemn him to-day as a traitor 
of the deepest dye, would find it in our hearts 
to be almost sorry for this very human sinner; 
and if poor Major John Andre was doomed to 
pay the penalty by an ignominious death, how 
much greater was the penalty Arnold paid by 
the torture of an accusing conscience, through 
a sorrowful life ! 

From the time he led his company to Cam- 
bridge, as a Captain of volunteers, to that day 
when he would have sold his country to the Eng- 
lish, his military life had been one long series of 
brilliant manoeuvers and well-earned victories. 
Whenever a campaign required a spirited leader 
with a cool head and indomitable courage, 
Washington singled out Benedict Arnold. In 
the assault upon Quebec, in the naval battle of 
Valcour Island, when Arnold commanded the 
fleet on Lake Champlain, in his wonderful cam- 
paign on the Mohawk, when he saved Fort 
Stanwix, and, last though not least, in the two 
battles of Saratoga, resulting in Burgoyne's 
surrender, and declared by historians to be ranked 
as among the fifteen great battles of the world, 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 189 

Arnold's conduct stands out with shining dis- 
tinctness. 

This last victory the world acknowledges to be 
due to Arnold's desperate valor and reckless 
exposure, in order to wring from Congress his 
well-merited promotion which had been unjustly 
withheld. Congress was unjust to many of its 
brave officers; at this time, General Schuyler 
had been superceded by General Gates, for no 
reason; but while Schuyler bore his wrongs with 
patriotic calmness, Arnold, who had been dragged 
through a court-martial on unjust charges, 
bitterly resented the action of Congress in with- 
holding his military promotion. 

Later on, other difficulties beset Arnold. He 
had married, early in life, Margaret Mansfield, 
daughter of the high sheriff of the county, but 
he had been a widower many years when he met 
the beautiful Miss Peggy Shippen, of Philadel- 
phia, who was his wife when, at the time of his 
treason, he fled the country. His extravagant 
way of living got him into debt, and money 
troubles crowded upon him. Some shady busi- 
ness transactions again brought down upon him 
arrest and a court-martial, and his punishment 
on this occasion was a public reprimand from 
Washington, given most unwillingly, — for the 
Commander-in-Chief was personally fond of 
the gallant officer. Indeed, it is stated that, had 



190 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the General been allowed the privilege of promot- 
ing the officers of his army from the beginning 
to the end of the war, Arnold's treason would 
not have stained the pages of history. 

Arnold's public disgrace left a wound which 
nothing could efface. He had shed his blood 
and had become a cripple in the cause of his 
country, and that country, in the name of justice, 
had given him unmerited punishment. This 
in no way excuses his treachery; it only explains 
the cause. Yet, to the very end, Washington 
trusted him; true to his promise of furnishing 
Arnold with opportunities to regain the esteem 
of his countrymen, he had appointed him to 
command the left wing of the army, guarding 
the Hudson, with headquarters at West Point, 
"the post of honor." But Arnold was already 
deep in treason, having sometime before opened 
a secret correspondence with the British, through 
Major Andre, Adjutant-General on Clinton's 
staff, carried on under assumed names — Arnold's 
letters being signed Gustavus, and Andre's, 
Anderson. 

The English found that Arnold's wounded 
pride furnished them with powerful weapons, 
and Arnold fell, dragging with him one of the 
brightest lights of the British army, John Andre, 
a brave soldier, a brilliant scholar and a courteous 
gentleman. He was young, eager for promotion, 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 1 91 

ready, in short, for any service he could render 
his country, — just as Nathan Hale was, four 
years before. 

August, 1780, was a gloomy hour in the his- 
tory of* the Revolution ; the Americans had lost 
Charleston, South Carolina, and the army sta- 
tioned there was in the enemy's hands. Gates 
had also been defeated at Camden, and another 
army routed. New Jersey was in nearly the 
same state, while Manhattan was overrun with 
British soldiers. It was then that the interview 
was arranged between Arnold and Andre, to 
take place somewhere around September 20, on 
which date Washington expected to meet the 
Count de Rochambeau, Commander of the 
French forces stationed at Newport, Rhode 
Island, having arranged for a conference at 
Hartford. 

On the evening of September 20, a big dinner 
was given in New York by Colonel Williams, an 
English officer, to General Sir Henry Clinton and 
his staff, Major Andre, of course, being one of 
the guests. The company was hilarious, and 
called for a song from the young Adjutant-Gen- 
eral, who was unusually grave, though he had 
just been toasted with many compliments. 
When he had modestly thanked them, Sir Henry 
said : "The Major leaves the city on duty to-night, 
which will most likely terminate in making plain 



192 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

John Andre Sir John Andre, for success must 
crown his efforts." 

Andre went up the Hudson that evening on 
the Vulture, the British sloop-of-war. He was 
accompanied by Beverly Robinson, and the 
sloop anchored between Teller's (now Croton) 
Point and Verplanck's Point, where it lay two 
days. Arnold sent Joshua H. Smith, an inti- 
mate friend, with a boat, to bring Andre" ashore, 
and by some accident the young officer, who had 
chosen neutral ground for the meeting, was hur- 
ried within the American lines, which made him 
very uneasy, and forced him to assume some 
sort of a disguise. 

The rest is history; Andre's mission accom- 
plished, he too, like Nathan Hale, was on the 
way home, the papers Arnold had given him 
stuffed in the feet of his stockings, unmindful 
of Clinton's positive commands to carry no 
papers. The plan was that Clinton, with a 
strong force, should attack West Point on the 
25th, and Arnold, after a show of resistence, 
should surrender on plea of the weakness of the 
garrison. A part of the plan was the seizure of 
Washington, who was due on the 27th. 

All would have gone well if, when on parting 
from his guide, Andre, on his return, had taken 
the White Plains road instead of the one leading 
to Tarrytown, which would have led him out 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 193 

of the enemy's country. On the morning of 
Friday, September 23, 1780, seven young men, 
all Patriots, were out chasing a gang of Tory 
marauders, called " cow-boys," who had been 
stealing cattle in the district between King's 
Bridge and the Croton River. These young 
men were John Paulding, Isaac Van Wart, David 
Williams, John Yerks, and three others who were, 
besides, doing special service in arresting sus- 
picious characters in the passing travellers. 

Paulding, who had recently escaped from pri- 
son, in New York, in the disguise of a Hessian 
coat, still had it on, and completely deceived 
Andre, who was riding into Tarrytown, as he 
stepped out of the bushes with his musket and 
ordered the traveller to halt and give an account 
of himself. 

"My lads, I hope you belong to our party," 
said Andre. 

"What party?" said Paulding. 

"The lower party — the British." 

"We do," said Paulding. 

"Thank God, I am once more among friends!" 
exclaimed Andre, much relieved. "I am a 
British officer, out in the country on particular 
business, and hope you will not detain me a 
minute." 

" We are Americans, and you are our prisoner," 
said Paulding, seizing the bridle of his horse. 



194 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

In vain Andre pled with them, even showing 
the passport which Arnold had provided in case 
of need. It read: "Headquarters, Robinson's 
House, September 22, 1780. Permit Mr. John 
Anderson to pass the guards to the White Plains, 
or below, if he chooses, he being on public busi- 
ness, by my direction. B. Arnold, Maj. Gen." 

The young men, their suspicions now thor- 
oughly aroused, made the traveller dismount and 
searched him carefully, but found nothing. 

"Try his boots," said Van Wart. 

This they did, finding the papers. Paulding, 
being the only one who could read, looked them 
over and exclaimed : 

"My God! He is a spy!" 

A spy — the most scorned of all beings! This 
fair son of England, with the best of his life 
stretching before him, branded as a spy by these 
country lads — these sons of the soil, while the 
traitor stayed quietly at his post, counting the 
hours to the enemy's coming ! 

These young men did not know what a prize 
they had taken. They knew he was a British 
officer, but had no idea of his rank. Though 
Andre offered them large bribes to release him, 
they could not be moved. 

Then Andre asked his captors to take him to 
the nearest American post. He was accord- 
ingly delivered to Lieutenant-Colonel Jamieson, 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 1 95 

in command of Sheldon's dragoons, at North 
Salem. That officer saw nothing amiss with 
Arnold's passport, and wrote a letter to Arnold, 
explaining how " Anderson" came to be a pris- 
oner, finally deciding to send the captive back 
with the letter under escort to headquarters. 
At the same time, he sent the papers found in 
Andre's boots by express to Washington, then on 
his way from Hartford. 

Andre was already on his way back, when 
Major Benjamin Tallmadge, of the dragons, 
suddenly returned to Jamieson's quarters, and, 
learning of the capture and the papers, declared 
Andre to be a spy and Arnold a traitor, and per- 
suaded Jamieson to order the return of the 
prisoner, agreeing to assume all responsibility. 
Andre was brought back, but unfortunately the 
letter went to Arnold. 

Washington had returned sooner than he 
expected and lodged at Fishkill, eighteen miles 
from West Point, on the night of September 24; 
early the next morning (the day appointed for 
the attack on West Point) he and his escort 
decided, as they were near Arnold's headquarters, 
they would go there for breakfast. The careful 
General stopped on the way to inspect some for- 
tifications, and sent Hamilton, Lafayette, and 
some other young officers to tell Mrs. Arnold 
not to delay breakfast on his account. 



196 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

While they were all at table with Arnold and 
his wife, the letter from Jamieson arrived. 
Arnold, after a few moments' talk, left the table, 
and his wife followed him anxiously to their 
room, where he told her the awful news and con- 
fessed himself a traitor, saying his safety depended 
on instant flight. 

Leaving his wife in a dead faint, and telling 
his guests that she was ill and that he had been 
called suddenly to West Point, he mounted his 
horse, which he had ordered Jamieson's messenger 
to have saddled, and made for the river. Here 
he summoned the crew of his barge, and stepping 
in, ordered them to row swiftly down the river, 
for he bore a flag, to the Vulture, and must be on 
hand soon to meet General Washington. When 
they neared the Vulture, Arnold raised his hand- 
kerchief on the end of a stick. His barge came 
alongside and he ascended to the deck, where 
he told Colonel Robinson what had happened. 

He tried to induce his bargemen to join the 
King's service, but they indignantly refused and 
were sent back to shore by the same flag, bearing 
a letter to Washington, inclosing one for his wife. 
He assured the outraged Commander-in-Chief 
that his wife knew nothing of his acts, and that 
his military aides were equally innocent. Then 
he slunk away out of sight, while Andr6 went to 
his fate. 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 197 

Nothing could save the brave young Major; 
the very officers who tried him were moved with 
deep compassion. Even Major Tallmadge, who 
had him in charge, found his sympathies aroused. 
Once, Andre asked him how he thought General 
Washington and a military tribunal would regard 
him; for answer Tallmadge replied: 

11 1 had a much-loved classmate at Yale College, 
by the name of Nathan Hale, who entered the 
army in 1775. Immediately after the Battle of 
Long Island, General Washington wanted infor- 
mation respecting the strength, position, and 
probable movements of the enemy. Captain 
Hale tendered his services, went over to Brooklyn, 
and was taken, just as he was passing the out- 
posts of the enemy on his return. Do you re- 
member the sequel of the story?" 

"Yes," said Andre, "he was hanged as a spy. 
But you surely do not consider his case and mine 
alike." 

"Yes, precisely similar; and similar will be 
your fate," said Tallmadge. 

And so it was, — only with this difference; 
Andre was fairly tried and fairly sentenced by a 
band of conscientious men, while Nathan Hale 
was hurried to his cruel death without trial. 
The Americans even went so far as to suggest an 
exchange of Arnold for Andre, Arnold offering 
to come back, but Clinton in honor was bound 



198 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

to protect the fugitive, even at the sacrifice of 
Andre, whom he dearly loved. 

The tale has been often told — how the poor 
young officer, knowing his life was forfeited, 
wrote Washington, begging for a soldier's death; 
how the enraged army murmured threats of dis- 
banding unless the sentence was carried out by 
the laws of war, as it was on October 2, 1780. 
But they could not keep him from dying like a 
soldier; with his own hands he placed the rope 
around his neck and swung into Eternity. They 
buried him in his uniform, where he died, on an 
eminence near Tappaan Village, and it was 
noticeable that neither Washington nor his staff 
appeared at the execution. 

There was mourning among the English as well 
as among the Americans, to whom the young 
fellow had greatly endeared himself. Later, his 
remains were disinterred and sent to England, 
and the King honored his memory by ordering 
a mural monument to be placed in Westminster 
Abbey, near the " Poets' Corner," and also, to 
wipe away the stain of Andre's death, settled a 
pension upon his family, and conferred the honor 
of knighthood upon his brother. 

But Nathan Hale sleeps in an unknown tomb, 
unmarked by a stone. A great city's surging 
restlessness is treading each day upon the sacred 
spot. Of recent date is that exquisite statue of 



THE SHADOWS OF THE REVOLUTION 199 

the young martyr, which stands in New York's 
busy thoroughfare, to remind us of a tardily paid 
debt. 

As for Arnold, few can tell through what ter- 
rible pangs conscience exacted toll from the 
traitor; for no matter what his excuse, he was a 
traitor. His treason was a great shock to Wash- 
ington, who had trusted in his fidelity above all 
things. 

Benedict Arnold died on the 14th of June, 
1 80 1, at the age of sixty years. Tradition tells 
us that, when he lay dying, his mind wandered 
and he fought over all his early battles. Calling 
for the old Continental uniform, in which he had 
escaped to the British ship, he said: ''Bring me, 
I beg you, the epaulettes and sword-knots which 
Washington gave me ; let me die in my old Ameri- 
can uniform, the uniform in which I fought my 
battles. God forgive me," he muttered, "for 
ever putting on any other." 

And thus, in bitter distress, in self-reproach, 
in poverty, died Benedict Arnold. 



CHAPTER IX 

DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 

HP HE Revolutionary soldier and the Revolu- 
* tionary sailor had each his part to play in 
the great American drama which gave us our 
independence. But while we have a great re- 
spect for the Revolutionary Dame, and we always 
speak of her with capital letters, history has never 
done her justice, for the simple reason that his- 
tory has to do with battlefields and the stirring 
deeds of great men fighting for their homes and 
firesides, while the capable hands of the Daughters 
of Liberty, that garnished the homes and swept 
the hearths, against the return of their victorious 
heroes, did their work in a spirit of heroic self- 
sacrifice, which has been and will be the lot of 
the women wherever there is war. 

From the time the Revolutionary ladies put 
away their tea-caddies, and stamped their high- 
heeled shoes in opposition to King George's stern 
decrees, to the days of the great peace, when 
they put on their best brocades to make their 
bow to President George Washington and his 

200 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 201 

lady, the women played a prominent part in the 
story of the Revolution, — from Martha Washing- 
ton, who was associated with every event of her 
husband's varied career, to the wife of the small- 
est farmer, who put a musket in her good man's 
hands and sent him to the front to fight for 
liberty. Then straightway, her home, no matter 
how humble, became her castle, and every in- 
stinct was roused to protect her fields, her cat- 
tle, her household goods, and her children, 
from the ravaging hands of Indians and 
Tories, who preyed upon the defenceless homes, 
and scattered death and desolation wherever 
they went. 

The pioneer women of those days could handle 
a musket as well as the men. Few of them could 
read or write, for the needs of everyday life at 
that time were not to be found in books. There 
was ploughing to be done, cows to be milked, 
horses to be fed and rubbed down, poultry to be 
cared for, meat to be salted and packed for the 
winter, and there were endless household duties 
to occupy their time, from dawn till dusk — can- 
dle-dipping, spinning and weaving, baking and 
brewing, seeing to the wants of a growing family, 
and, more than all, fighting that dreadful scourge 
of the Revolution, smallpox, that deadliest of 
foes, hidden in the tattered garments of some 
fugitive soldier, who, receiving food from the 



202 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

hand of some kind housekeeper, would leave the 
pest behind him. 

It was a merciless scourge, attacking friend 
and foe, and entering alike without warning the 
homes of the rich and the poor. Other diseases, 
too, coming into the towns from the nearby camps 
or from the soldiers quartered there, ran riot in 
the households, and could not be checked by the 
old-fashioned grandmother's remedies. Espe- 
cially was this the case in Boston, when the town 
was swarming with the English soldiers, who 
unceremoniously took possession of some of the 
handsomest houses, and when, at its gates, the 
ragged Americans were herded together rather 
like a stable full of animals than like an army of 
men. The very water seemed to be poisoned; 
those who drank of it, sickened, and in many 
cases, died. 

The house of John Adams, in particular, was 
the scene of much suffering, for member after 
member of his own and his wife's family was cut 
down. There was no braver Daughter of Liberty 
than Abigail Adams, the wife of this Patriot. 
Separated from her husband from the very begin- 
ning of the war, and left with her four young 
children in the besieged city of Boston, this won- 
derful woman kept up a steady stream of letters, 
which form in themselves an excellent history 
of Boston at that time. 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 203 

Mrs. John Adams was Miss Abigail Smith of 
Weymouth, Massachusetts; she was born in that 
town, November 11, 1744, and was a direct 
descendant of the Massachusetts Puritans. Her 
father was the Reverend William Smith, minister 
of the Congregational Church of Weymouth, 
and her mother was Elizabeth Quincy, also of 
fine old Puritan stock, with many ministers of 
the Gospel on her side of the family. This fact 
in a measure accounts for the somewhat unusual 
education Abigail Smith received; for in the 
Colony of Massachusetts, where religious zeal 
ruled everything, the ministers who preached the 
Gospel were among the most noted scholars of 
the day, devoting all their higher education to 
the spreading of the Scripture. It was natural, 
therefore, that the clergy should become guardi- 
ans of education as well as of religion. The 
records of Harvard University show that during 
the Colonial period most of the instructors were 
ministers, and at least half of the students entered 
college to prepare themselves for the ministry. 

In those days, as Mrs. Adams says, "it was 
fashionable to ridicule female learning." For 
the girls of a family there was no special instruc- 
tion, except the practical homely wisdom which 
fell from the lips of their mothers. If the small 
Patiences and Dorcases were quick-witted, they 
picked up bits of learning in their daily conversa- 



204 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

tions. Abigail Smith's unusually quick mind 
scarcely showed itself until long after her mar- 
riage to John Adams. "I never was sent to 
school," she writes, "I was always sick. Female 
education in the best families went no further 
than writing and arithmetic; in some few and 
rare instances, music and dancing." 

Little Abigail was fortunate above most chil- 
dren in the possession of a very remarkable 
grandmother, Mrs. John Quincy, herself the 
daughter of a clergyman, who delighted in teach- 
ing, and had a happy fashion of mixing instruc- 
tion with amusement. She was of a lively, 
cheerful disposition, and the visits Abigail paid 
to Mount Wollaston, a part of Braintree, Massa- 
chusetts, were the pleasant spots in her little 
girl life. She was fond of girl friends of her own 
age, but the distances between their homes were 
too great to allow frequent meetings, and so they 
took to letter-writing when the bad roads and 
the dangers of travelling kept them apart, and 
they signed fictitious names, such as Calliope, 
Myra, Aspasia and Aurelia, just like the writers 
in the Spectator, then the fashionable magazine 
of the period. Abigail's own chosen name was 
Diana, but, after her marriage, in her letters to 
her husband, she usually signed herself Portia, 
and this letter-writing proved her best teacher, 
while her habit of quoting bits of verse or clever 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 205 

sayings goes to prove that the young ladies of 
Massachusetts read much, even though self- 
taught. 

Abigail was the second of three daughters: 
Mary, the eldest, married Richard Cranch, who 
later became a Judge of the Court of Common 
Pleas in Massachusetts, while Elizabeth, the 
youngest, was twice married, first to the Rever- 
end John Shaw, of Haverhill, Massachusetts, 
and after his death to the Reverend Mr. Peabody 
of Atkinson, New Hampshire. The marriage of 
Abigail was not so pleasing to her parents, first 
because John Adams was a lawyer, and in those 
days lawyers were regarded as somewhat on the 
order of rogues; Mr. Adams besides was the son 
of a small farmer, not near so high in the social 
scale; but love conquered, and they were married, 
in spite of Puritanical head-shakings, on October 
25, 1764. Little they dreamed that the farmer's 
son would help to rend the shackles from his 
country, and that one day Abigail would take 
her place beside him as the first lady in the land ! 

The first ten years of her married life passed 
tranquilly, but from 1774 until the close of the 
war she had to endure almost constant separation 
from her husband. During this time her only 
solace were the letters which passed between 
them. Those from John Adams, of course, 
dealt with the big events which were taking 



206 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

place in Congress, wherever it was sitting; while 
Mrs. Adams wrote from Braintree, from Wey- 
mouth, and from Boston, of all the military 
movements which were occurring almost at 
her door. Besides this, there were household 
and family matters to report, and especially each 
smallest detail about their little quartette of 
children, for John Adams was a proud and loving 
father; but Mrs. Adams had the care of them 
through all those anxious days, not knowing at 
what time the British might march in and take 
possession. 

In one letter she gives a stirring account of how 
the Colonists secured some gunpowder in Brain- 
tree, and in the same letter, dated two days 
later, she speaks in glowing terms of Mr. Nathan 
Rice, the new schoolmaster: "I have not sent 
Johnny," she writes on September 16, 1774 
[John Quincy Adams was then seven years old]. 
"He goes very steadily to Mr. Thaxter, who I 
believe takes very good care of him; and, as they 
seem to have a liking to each other, I believe it 
will be best to continue him with him. How- 
ever, when you return we can consult what will 
be best. I am certain if he does not get so much 
good, he gets less harm." 

Another letter from Boston Garrison, in 1774, 
tells of the steady but quiet preparation for war, 
also of the threatened uprising of the negroes. 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 207 

"I wish," she writes, "there was not a slave 
in the province. It always appeared a most 
iniquitous scheme to me — to fight ourselves 
for what we are daily robbing and plundering 
from those who have as good a right to free- 
dom as we have. You know my mind upon 
this subject." 

In another letter she encloses a couple from the 
children. She says: "You will receive letters 
from two who are as earnest to write to papa, as 
if the welfare of a kingdom depended upon it." 
One letter has been preserved; it was from John 
Quincy Adams, written at the age of seven, and 
is full of all the quaint, old-fashioned phrasing 
of a little boy of long ago. It is dated October 
13, 1774, and begins 

"Sir — 

' ' I have been trying ever since you went away 
to learn to write you a letter. I shall make poor 
work of it; but sir, mamma says you will accept 
my endeavors, and that my duty to you may be 
expressed in poor writing as well as good. I hope 
I grow a better boy, and that you will have no 
occasion to be ashamed of me when you return. 
Mr. Thaxter says I learn my books well. He is 
a very good master. I read my books to mamma. 
We all long to see you. I am, sir, your dutiful 
son, 

"John Quincy Adams." 



208 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Rather a remarkable letter for a seven-year- 
old; perhaps "mamma" helped him to string his 
sentences together. 

During the siege of Boston, she was shut up in 
the enemy's country, while all her sympathies 
lay outside with the besiegers. It took a woman 
of infinite courage to live in the midst of war, in 
the midst of foes, but her duty lay with her 
young children, and in watching over her hus- 
band's affairs during his absence, and she never 
faltered. 

There were thousands like her, many indeed 
whose names will never go down in history, but 
the wives of the leaders were shining examples. 
Mrs. Washington followed her husband to every 
camp. At the close of each campaign, Washing- 
ton always despatched an aide-de-camp to bring 
his wife to headquarters. Hostilities always 
ceased in the winter, to be renewed with the 
first breath of spring. As she quaintly remarked, 
it was always her fortune ' ' to hear the first can- 
non at the opening, and the last at the closing, 
of all the campaigns of the Revolutionary war." 
She created quite a pleasant stir when she came 
to camp in her "plain chariot, with the neat 
postilions in red and white liveries." 

The presence of the Commander's wife had a 
great effect upon the soldiers. Her simplicity 
and her dignity endeared her to them all, and 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 209 

the fact that she cheerfully endured her hus- 
band's privations was a fine example for them. 
She shared with them all the cruel winter at 
Valley Forge, and her gentle care and kindness 
relieved much suffering. The wife of a great 
man has a hard part to play. "Lady Washing- 
ton," as she was often called, left nothing great 
behind her; the memory of her is scented with 
old-fashioned lavender. She was an old-fash- 
ioned lady; she adored her husband; she looked 
after her household and was a wonderful house- 
keeper, making the very most of their cramped 
quarters in camp. 

Accustomed to the luxuries at Mount Vernon, 
she had to make the best of nothing, for their 
table was scantily furnished indeed during those 
days of famine at Valley Forge, when the soldiers 
lived on salt herrings and potatoes, with a jug of 
water from the nearest spring. It was no small 
undertaking to be the mistress of a home like 
Mount Vernon, and later to become the mistress 
of the White House, and the fact that she was 
beloved by one and all shows how graciously and 
unselfishly she did her duty. 

She was not alone in this, however; whenever 
it was possible, the soldiers' wives shared the 
fortunes of war with them, enduring all the hard- 
ships with a fortitude that was remarkable, 
aiding the sick and the wounded, and adding 



210 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

cheerfulness to the camps, so often depressed by 
the shadow of defeat. The lives of the women 
of that day were more or less bounded by their 
limited education; they lived in stirring times, 
and their energy and ready wit were called into 
play by the great events which happened around 
them. 

We must not imagine that tea was a forbidden 
article during all the years of the Revolution. 
After the Declaration of Independence, the ladies 
began to look elsewhere for their tea. Chinese 
tea came into use, and the brew from it was far 
more fragrant than the beverages made from sage 
or sassafras. Our privateers, too, brought in 
wonderful shipments of silks, calicoes, gauzes 
and ribbons, and the ladies among the better 
class were able to show as much elegance of 
costume as their Tory sisters. 

Not so the women of the poorer class; they 
dressed in homespun of the poorest quality, and 
labored hard to keep the wolf from their cabin 
doors, or, if not the wolf, the Tory or the Indian. 
Many of these women had the courage and the 
strength of men, and in the records of Congress 
can be found the following item : 

" Resolved — That Margaret Corbin, wounded 
and disabled at the attack on Fort Washington, 
while she heroically filled the post of her husband, 
who was killed by her side, serving a piece of 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 211 

artillery, do receive, during her natural life, or 
continuance of said disability, one-half the 
monthly pay drawn by a soldier in service of 
these States; and that she now receive out of 
public stores, one suit of clothes, or value thereof 
in money. July, 1779." 

There is also the story of the celebrated " Molly 
Pitcher," the wife of the gunner who was killed 
at the battle of Monmouth. She never faltered, 
though her good man lay dead at her side, but, 
taking his place at the gun, did such damage 
that she was rewarded by a commission. 

Another heroine of martial fame was Deborah 
Samson, of Plymouth, Massachusetts, a child of 
poverty-stricken parents. When a very small 
girl, she was put out to work in a respectable 
farmer's household and was kindly treated, but 
the poor little maid had no chance of an educa- 
tion, though she was eager for knowledge. She 
taught herself to read, however, by borrowing 
books from the children who passed their house 
to and from school. 

When she was eighteen, her apprenticeship 
was at an end, and she then set to work to get an 
education. She hired out to a farmer's family, 
receiving in payment her board and lodging, 
and then she went daily to the district school in 
the neighborhood. She there made such strides 
that in a few months she had accomplished more 



212 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

than her schoolmates had done in years. Mean- 
time she had grown to be a tall, strong girl, with 
very much the build and muscle of a boy, and, 
when the cannons were booming around Boston 
until their thunderous echoes could be heard 
afar, a resolution to serve her country as a 
soldier sprang up within her. She was alone in 
the world, and no one would miss her or care 
about her fate. 

In the summer of 1778, she earned twelve 
dollars by teaching in the district school, and 
with this sum she fitted herself out in a man's 
suit of fustian, making an attractive youth with 
the most winning manners. Then she disap- 
peared from the farmer's house, and presented 
herself as a recruit in the American army, enlist- 
ing for the whole term of the war. She was 
enrolled as one of the first volunteers, in the 
company of Captain Nathan Thayer, of Medway, 
Massachusetts, under the name of Robert Shirt- 
liffe, and she lived in the Captain's family until 
the company was ready to join the main army. 

Her sturdy frame and unusual strength de- 
ceived everyone, and she was able to stand the 
greatest fatigue with the courage of a man. Some 
uniforms were given to the recruits and they had 
to draw for them by lot ; the one which fell to the 
so-called Robert did not fit, but by the aid of 
his needle and scissors he soon altered it, much 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 21 3 

to the astonishment of Mrs. Thayer. But he 
explained that his mother had no girl, and so 
he was often obliged to act as seamstress. 

Several pretty girls fell in love with the dashing 
young "soldier boy," but she always managed 
to keep out of scrapes, and was in good standing 
in the company, where she served faithfully for 
three years — years full of the most wonderful 
adventures, in which she was wounded twice, 
and through everything she was suspected by 
none. The soldiers, with whom she was a great 
favorite, often called her" Molly," because she had 
no beard, but no suspicion crossed their minds. 

When wounded, her one fear was that she 
might be discovered, but, strange as it may seem, 
she escaped detection. Finally an attack of 
brain fever laid her low; she was carried to a 
hospital in a dying condition. It was here that 
the doctor in charge discovered she was a woman, 
but he was very kind, and when poor "Robert" 
crept slowly back to life he had her removed to 
his own home where she could receive better 
care. Here she had the misfortune to win the 
love of the Doctor's niece, a very charming 
young girl, and suffered many pangs of remorse, 
though, it seems, not even this induced her to 
disclose her identity. She had a feeling that 
the Doctor suspected her, though he never hinted 
at such a thing by word or look. 



214 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

When she was well enough to go back to her 
company, she was ordered to carry a letter to 
General Washington. Then she was sure the 
truth had come to light, and was more frightened 
when she came into the presence of the great man 
than she had been before the enemy's fire. She 
was dismissed with an attendant while the Gen- 
eral read the letter, and, when she was recalled, 
he handed her in silence her discharge from the 
service, at the same time giving her a note with 
a few kinds word of advice, and money to pay 
her expenses to some place where she could find 
a home. After the war, she married Benjamin 
Gannett, of Sharon, and when Washington was 
President she was invited to visit the Capital. 
During her stay, Congress passed a bill, granting 
her a pension and certain lands, as an acknowl- 
edgment of her services to the country, and while 
in the city she was invited to prominent houses 
and entertained as a much-honored guest. 

Another heroine who shared the honors of her 
husband's life was Mrs. John Hancock. We 
first hear of her when, as Dorothy Quincy, she 
fled from Boston with Hancock's aunt, Madam 
Lydia Hancock, just before the Battle of Lexing- 
ton. Joining Samuel Adams and Hancock at 
the home of the Reverend Mr. Clarke, in Lexing- 
ton, she accompanied them to Woburn when 
they made their escape from Lexington. She 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 215 

married Hancock in the early days of the Revo- 
lution, and was his faithful companion in all the 
vicissitudes and trials of those seven eventful 
years. Whatever the people of his own time 
thought of him, the records handed down to us 
show that Hancock was a truly great man. 

He served his country when racked by disease 
and pain, and eager as he was to take active serv- 
ice he was never allowed to leave the councils 
of Congress. Mrs. Hancock alone understood 
the causes of his sensitive and often irritable 
temper, for he was not a general favorite ; indeed 
he had many political as well as many private 
enemies. But "Sweet Dorothy Q — ," as Oliver 
Wendell Holmes calls her, made her own society 
and gathered around herself and her husband a 
brilliant circle of friends. She outlived Hancock 
many years, even marrying again, her second 
husband being Captain Scott, with whom Han- 
cock had had many business dealings. But to 
the Massachusetts people she was always Madam 
Hancock, — a dear old lady, whose reminiscences 
of the good old times kept her delightfully young 
and fresh. 

When Lafayette was serving in the American 
army, he was a frequent and honored guest at 
the Hancock mansion. Many years after, when 
he visited America as the nation's guest, he paid 
a call of state to the widow of his old friend. In 



216 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

"An Old- Fashioned Girl," in the chapter called 
" Grandma," Louisa M. Alcott has given us a 
charming picture of this event. "Grandma" 
was supposed to be one of the pretty girls Madam 
Hancock had clustered around her to welcome 
the courtly old hero. To the Alcott family this 
fine old gentlewoman — the very breath and spirit 
of the past — was a great delight. When Bronson 
Alcott was a young man, he dined with her on one 
occasion, and shook his head over the vagaries 
of great folk. Madam always served her dinner 
backwards, beginning with dessert, which proba- 
bly accounts for John Hancock's uncertain 
disposition. 

Another Daughter of Liberty, well known in 
Revolutionary days, was Mercy Warren, whose 
husband, James Warren, was one of the staunch- 
est of Revolutionary Patriots. Mrs. Warren, 
however, was better known as the sister of James 
Otis, justly honored as one of the moving spirits 
of the Revolution. 

The Otis family, of which Colonel James Otis 
was the head, lived in Plymouth, Massachusetts, 
where Mercy Otis was born September 25, 1728. 
As a family they were all distinguished for high 
mental qualities. James Otis, Jr., was a bril- 
liant graduate of Harvard, and his sister, while 
not neglecting the many home duties that fell to 
her lot, employed her spare time, not only in 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 217 

reading, but in the most remarkable fancy-work 
of her own designing, showing great taste and 
industry. Worsted work was very fashionable 
in those days. One of her descendants has a 
card-table done in this work, the design being 
made from garden and field flowers. 

The study of literature also occupied a great 
deal of her time, and the Reverend Jonathan 
Russell, the parish minister, supplied this un- 
usual girl with all the books she wanted. History 
was her favorite study, and, even after her mar- 
riage, she kept up with all her old pursuits, 
adding to these accomplishments, the gift of 
writing, shown first in letters to her family and 
friends, and to such prominent men as Samuel 
and John Adams, Jefferson, Dickinson and 
others. In the exciting, early days of the strug- 
gle, the letters exchanged between Mrs. Warren 
and Abigail Adams breathe the true prophetic 
spirit of the Revolution. The two ladies were 
life-long friends, and their letters are of a high 
order. Mrs. Warren's pen strayed into the field 
of composition. She wrote several tragedies and 
much poetry, being gifted with a vein of satire, 
to relieve the sometimes tedious blank verse. 

Naturally, the Massachusetts women were 
much excited over the destruction of the tea, 
and Mrs. Warren celebrated the Tea- Party in the 
following classic lines : 



218 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

India's poisonous weed 
Long since a sacrifice to Thetis made, 
A rich regale. Now, all the watery dames 
May snuff souchong, and sip in flowing bowls 
The higher flavored choice Hysonian stream, 
And leave their nectar to old Homer's gods." 

Her devotion to her poor, mad brother, in 
his last years, was both touching and beautiful. 
Mrs. Ellet, in her short memoir of this wonderful 
woman, says: " There existed between them 
[the brother and sister] a strong attachment 
which nothing ever impaired. Even in the wild- 
est moods of that insanity with which, late in 
life, the great Patriot was afflicted, her voice had 
the power to calm him when all else was without 
effect." 

Heroism was not confined to the women of 
Massachusetts; the women of Pennsylvania were 
equally as zealous, and the good old Dutch stock 
of New York boasted of many a bright star. 
There were two American soldiers who took up 
their residence in Philadelphia at different times, 
whose careers certainly showed the influence of 
their wives. One was Colonel Joseph Reed, 
formerly a lawyer in Trenton; owing to the 
stressful times, he had changed his residence to 
Philadelphia, in order to be in touch with the 
Continental Congress assembled there. 

His patriotism was strongly distrusted because 
of his recent marriage to a London girl, Miss 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 219 

Esther De Berdt, a daughter of a British mer- 
chant, much interested in the Colonial trade. 
Another cause of prejudice against Joseph Reed 
was the fact that he finished his professional 
studies at the Temple in London, but fears of his 
loyalty were without foundation, though it took 
General Washington's clearer vision to fully 
appreciate the man and his worth. Yet even 
to-day his name does not stand forth on the pages 
of history as it should, though the services he 
rendered his country were invaluable. In re- 
sponse to some peace movement on the part of 
the British, who asked him to use his influence, 
and offered him ten thousand guineas and a cer- 
tain post for his services, he made this prompt 
and noble reply: "I am not worth purchasing; 
but such as I am, the King of Great Britian is not 
rich enough to do it." 

His young wife came to her Patriot husband 
full of sympathy for the Americans, and took 
her place among those Daughters of Liberty who 
labored and sacrificed in the cause. Her work 
among the suffering soldiers is her lasting monu- 
ment, and many letters passed between her and 
the Commander-in-Chief concerning the needs 
of his men, for Washington, as someone truly 
observed, "writes as judiciously on the humble 
topic of soldiers' shirts, as on the plan of a cam- 
paign or the subsistence of an army." 



220 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Mrs. Reed was in Philadelphia during Howe's 
occupation, and suffered, as all the Patriot women 
suffered, at seeing their beloved city in the hands 
of the enemy. On the evacuation of the British, 
Benedict Arnold, then in the heyday of his power, 
marched in with the American colors flying, and 
took up his residence there in great state. His 
marriage to the beautiful Miss Margaret Shippen, 
better known as Peggy Shippen, roused much 
comment, because the young lady was the 
daughter of a Tory; but Arnold, as a general, was 
above reproach, and no one imagined that his 
Tory wife would have the power to lead him 
astray. 

Many suspected that she had a hand in her 
husband's treachery. Certain it was that she 
was ordered by Congress to join Arnold in the 
British army, but no one questioned the faith- 
fulness and loyalty of the beautiful woman who 
shared his dishonored name. A marked contrast 
were these two women, both of Philadelphia, 
wives of American soldiers. One week after 
Esther Reed, honored and lamented by all who 
knew her, was borne to her grave, Margaret 
Shippen bowed her queenly head in shame at 
her husband's disgrace. 

Among the many sacrifices the women were 
forced to make, the call for lead and pewter for 
ammunition struck terror to the hearts of the 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 221 

Revolutionary housekeepers, for it meant that 
all their table services of pewter, in which they 
took such pride, had to go to the melting-pot. 
But the need was urgent, and the true Patriot 
sacrificed without question. The household pew- 
ter, polished by loving hands to the brightness 
of silver, was given up, though many secret tears 
were shed. 

Cornelia Beekman, another historic character 
of the Revolution, came of the old Van Cort- 
landt stock that flourished in New York State, 
and by her boldness and daring showed her 
loyalty to the cause of America. She was the 
second daughter of Pierre Van Cortlandt and 
Joanna Livingston, and was born in 1752. Her 
father was Lieutenant-Governor of New York, 
under its Patriot Governor, George Clinton, 
from 1777 to 1795, so the girl was early in- 
structed in the principles of American liberty. 
She married Gerard G. Beekman when she was 
seventeen years old, and very soon after the storm 
of war came upon them and she watched, with 
much interest and enthusiasm, the rising of the 
people against the British tyranny. One cere- 
monial was especially impressed on her mind 
when the mechanics of the city brought their 
tools, and, placing them in a large coffin, made 
for the purpose, formed a funeral procession and 
buried the coffin in Potter's Field, afterwards 



222 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

returning to present themselves, each with 
musket in hand, equipped for service in the army. 

During the war, when New York was not con- 
sidered safe, she, with her husband and family, 
returned to Croton where her childhood was 
spent, where, being within reach of the American 
army, it was supposed to be safer; but straggling 
royalists often annoyed her, and once, on the 
occasion of a brief absence from home, she and 
her children returned to find the manor-house a 
scene of desolation. Not an article of furniture 
was left but a bedstead, a single glass bottle for 
drinking purposes, and one ham, which had hung 
out of sight in the cellar. 

She told the American officers — Putnam and 
Webb — of her plight, and they promised, if she 
would be satisfied with army supplies, to send her 
a complete housekeeping outfit. The next day a 
horseman arrived, carrying a bag on either side 
of him, filled with all sorts of wooden ware. 
Some of these articles are still in the keeping of 
proud descendants. No wounded or hungry 
soldier ever passed her door, and on one occasion, 
when her larder had been emptied by the enemy, 
a Captain of the British service rode up to the 
house and demanded something to eat. She 
brought out a loaf of bread and a knife, which 
she assured him was all she had in the house. 
"But I will divide this," she said, "you shall 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 223 

have one-half and I will keep the other for my 
family," greatly impressing the officer with her 
generosity. 

Indirectly, Cornelia Beekman was the cause 
of Major Andre's capture. Lieutenant John 
Webb, known as "Lieutenant Jack," was occa- 
sionally acting aid on Washington's staff, and 
was much at the Beekman house, which was a 
meeting-place for many of the American officers. 
One day he rode by and asked Mrs. Beekman to 
take charge of his valise, which contained a new 
uniform and a quantity of gold. He told her 
he would send for it when he wanted it, but on no 
account to deliver it without a written order 
from himself or his brother. No further word 
was heard of Lieutenant Webb until about two 
weeks later, when an acquaintance of the Beek- 
mans, by the name of Smith, rode up to the house, 
and Cornelia Beekman heard him ask her hus- 
band for " Lieutenant Jack's" valise. Mr. Beek- 
man ordered a servant to bring it, but Mrs. 
Beekman called out to ask if the messenger had 
a written order from either of the Webbs. 

"No," the man replied, "they had no time to 
write one. You know me very well, Mrs. Beek- 
man, and when I assure you that 'Lieutenant 
Jack' sent me for the valise, you will not refuse 
to deliver it to me, as he is greatly in need of his 
uniform." 



224 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

"I do know you very well," replied Mrs. 
Beekman, "too well to give you up the valise with- 
out a written order from the owner or from the 
Colonel." 

Smith was an American, but his loyalty was 
strongly suspected; indeed, at that very moment 
Major Andre, unwittingly trapped in the enemy's 
country, was in hiding at Smith's house, awaiting 
some sort of a disguise in which to get away. 
Smith had heard Lieutenant Webb speak of his 
valise and its contents, while dining at the Peek- 
skill tavern, the very day he had left it with Mrs. 
Beekman. As the uniform of an American 
officer was the very thing for Andre, Smith made 
the effort to get it. 

He was very angry at Mrs. Beekman's doubts, 
and even her husband was displeased at her firm 
stand, but she held her ground and the disap- 
pointed messenger rode quickly away. When 
Lieutenant Webb returned for the valise, the 
world was ringing with Arnold's treason and 
Andre's tragic death, and the young officer 
thanked the courageous lady for the prudence 
which had prevented a great disaster. Undoubt- 
edly, if Smith had obtained the uniform, Andre 
would have made his escape through the Ameri- 
can lines, West Point would have been sold to the 
English, and a way would have been opened for 
the conquest of the Colonies. In a word, Corne- 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 225 

lia Beekman changed the current of history by 
her firmness and clear judgment, and she lived 
to see her country on the road to becoming a 
great nation, dying at the ripe old age of ninety- 
five years, in 1847. 

Mary Murray, who saved General Putnam 
from a surprise by the British, was also a Daugh- 
ter of Liberty from New York. Her husband 
was one of the wealthy men of the city, and 
owned a beautiful country-place on Murray 
Hill, about the present site of Park Avenue 
and Thirty-sixth Street. Mrs. Murray, who 
was a Miss Lindley — the mother of Lindley 
Murray, the famous grammarian — belonged to 
a prominent Quaker family of Philadelphia, 
where she lived sometime after her marriage 
to Robert Murray, who was also a Quaker and 
a loyalist, while his wife was on the side of the 
Americans. 

After the Battle of Long Island, the Americans 
were in full retreat before the pursuing British, 
under Lord Howe. Through the city of New 
York they swept, fiercely chased, and General 
Putnam had just left Murray Hill to dash back 
into the city and rally his men, who were in 
danger of being separated from the main army, 
already speeding to Harlem Heights, somewhere 
in the neighborhood of Barnard College and 
Columbia University. 



226 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Dodging the advancing British, he reached the 
heart of the city just as General Howe and his 
officers, with their regiments behind them, 
stopped for rest and refreshment at the Murray 
mansion. Mrs. Murray, knowing the value of 
time gained, entertained the General and his 
staff so lavishly that she detained them two hours 
or more, giving General Putnam and his forces 
ample time to get out of gun-range of the pursu- 
ing foe. When all was safe, Mrs. Murray, who 
had been joked by the English officers about her 
American friends, invited Howe to see the won- 
derful view from her cupola. He obediently 
followed her upstairs, and she pointed far away 
to the lines of buff and blue Continentals, growing 
ever fainter and fainter in the distance. By this 
clever stratagem it is universally believed that 
Mrs. Murray saved this part of the American 
army. 

Last but not least among these Daughters of 
Liberty stands Betsy Ross, the maker of our 
first national flag. On June 14, 1777, the Con- 
tinental Congress at Philadelphia adopted the 
following resolutions: 

"Resolved that the flag of the thirteen United 
States, be thirteen stripes, alternate red and 
white; that the union be thirteen stars, white on 
a blue field, representing a new constellation." 

In the words of Washington himself: 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 227 

"We take the star from Heaven, the red from 
our Mother country, separating it by white 
stripes, thus showing that we have separated 
from her, and the white stripes shall go down to 
posterity representing liberty." 

The credit of making this first flag was given 
to Mrs. Betsy Ross, who cleverly combined the 
required stars and stripes in an attractive man- 
ner. The thirteen white stars were arranged in 
a circle on the blue background — the circle 
symbolizing the eternity or perpetuity of the 
union of the states. 

Betsy or Elizabeth Griscom was the fifth 
daughter of Samuel and Rebecca Griscom and 
was born January 1, 1752. When quite young 
she married John Ross whose father, Aeneas 
Ross, was an Episcopal clergyman of New Castle, 
Delaware, and a nephew of George Ross, one of 
the signers of the Declaration of Independence; 
this same George Ross was interested in the 
furnishing of cannon-balls and other military 
stores for Colonial defence, and it was while 
guarding these stores that John Ross, the hus- 
band of Betsy, received an injury from which 
he died in January, 1776, leaving a very young 
widow, and it was during her widowhood that 
she made the flag. 

Congress appointed General Washington, Col- 
onel George Ross and Robert Morris, a committee 



228 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

authorized to design a suitable national flag, and 
they called on Mrs. Ross, who was supporting 
herself in the upholstery business in Philadelphia. 
Washington was well acquainted with Mrs. 
Ross's skill with her needle, having employed 
her to embroider his shirt ruffles and do other 
needle work. 

When Mrs. Ross was shown the rough drawing 
of the flag, she objected to the six-pointed stars 
and suggested five points instead, showing how 
easy it was to make a five-pointed star by folding 
a square piece of paper in a certain way, and 
producing one with a single clip of her scissors. 
After that she became the national flag maker, 
and at her death, in 1836, having outlived three 
husbands, her daughter, Mrs. Clarissa Wilson, 
succeeded to the business. 

The American Flag House and Betsy Ross 
Memorial Association has purchased the historic 
building where our first flag was made. It is 
situated at 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia, and 
recently the Association has turned the house 
over to the Government as a historic shrine. 

To write the full story of these Daughters of 
Liberty would require many volumes, but even 
in this limited space the daring women of the 
West and South must come in for their share of 
praise. In the West, where Clarke blazed his 
trail and fought both savages and Tories as he 



DAUGHTERS OF LIBERTY 229 

cut his way through the virgin forest, the women 
were of the pioneer fibre. The women of Wyo- 
ming lived in the midst of slaughter from the day 
of the Massacre, in July, 1778, until the close of 
the war. 

The women of Kentucky were no less bold 
and daring, while the women of the South — more 
delicately nurtured and better bred — showed 
equal endurance and fortitude. For just before 
the light of victory there was the darkness of 
despair; the whole South seemed engulfed in the 
toils of the British. Still, the women hoped on, 
prayed on, resolved to struggle to the last, or die 
as their men did, defending their homes. 



CHAPTER X 

OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 

WE must not forget that our fighting Colo- 
nists, who were going through all the perils 
of war for the liberty of their land, owed the 
very possession of this land to a hardy race of 
mariners who had ventured forth, lured by the 
riches of Cathay, that fabled country which was 
never discovered until recently, when the long 
sought-for "passage" between two oceans — our 
Panama Canal — has opened the way to the wealth 
of the Indies. It was natural that those Col- 
onists who had settled near the coast should turn 
to sea-faring; natural, also, that trade should 
come from abroad to American ports, and that 
by degrees, craft of all sorts, — merchantmen, 
fishing vessels, frigates and sloops, — should ride 
upon the broad Atlantic, from Boston Bay to 
Charleston Harbor. 

England, long mistress of the seas, found that 
her strongest weapon against her rebellious 
subjects lay in the strength of her fleet, and 
America, in Revolutionary days, had no fleet. 
She had merchantmen, for her trade was brisk, 

230 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 231 

and she had boats and barges of various sizes and 
designs for conveying troops from shore to shore. 
Ships for war she had none, depending upon 
the ships of England which, according to the 
naval construction of the day, had reached a 
high state of perfection. 

Congress, in the first unsettled days of the 
conflict, devoted its whole attention to the arm- 
ing and equipping of their untrained men, but, 
in the meantime, Great Britain was sending out 
her soldiers in powerfully built warships, bristling 
with big guns, and when the soldiers disem- 
barked, these guns belched forth destruction at 
whatever port they touched. 

As early as October, 1775, the Patriots heard 
that two British transports, laden with arms and 
ammunition, were on their way from England to 
Quebec; and they determined to capture them if 
possible. On October 13, of the same year, the 
first naval committee was appointed to equip 
two swift-sailing vessels, one with ten guns and 
one with fourteen, "for the purpose of inter- 
cepting these, or any other storeships." This 
was the first step in the building of our navy, and 
the men who had the task in hand were Silas 
Deane, John Adams, John Langdon, and later, 
Christopher Gadsden, who took the place of 
John Adams. On October 30, two more vessels, 
one of twenty and one of thirty-six guns, were 



232 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

made ready, and very shortly the ''Marine 
Board," the " Continental Naval Board" and the 
"Board of Admiralty" were invested with the 
power of selecting crews and choosing officers. 

On sea as on land, the British were the aggres- 
sors; their cruisers had already captured several 
of our merchantmen, while the town of Falmouth 
(now Portland), with several other settlements, 
had been laid in ashes with their guns, and the 
people were left homeless in midwinter. Instead 
of quenching the spirit of rebellion among the 
Colonists, these dastardly acts only produced a 
deeper sense of resentment, and Congress finally 
authorized the capture of any armed vessel em- 
ployed against the Colonies, or of any transport 
engaged in carrying supplies to the British. 

Washington's far-seeing mind had already 
grasped the situation. It was his original sug- 
gestion to Congress that military stores could be 
captured in this way, and the establishing of 
some sort of a navy appealed to Congress as a 
very necessary source of defense. In December, 
1775, they ordered the building of five ships of 
thirty-two guns, five of twenty-eight guns, and 
three of twenty-four guns, to be ready by the 
following April, and to be constructed in the 
specified states: one in New Hampshire, two in 
Massachusetts, one in Connecticut, two in Rhode 
Island, two in New York, one in Maryland, and 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 233 

the others at such places as the committee should 
appoint. 

The names of these ships were Hancock, Ran- 
dolph, Raleigh, Warren, Washington, Congress, 
Effingham, Providence, Trumbull, Virginia, Boston, 
Delaware, and Montgomery. The Commander- 
in-Chief was Esek Hopkins, who received the 
munificent salary of one hundred and twenty- 
five dollars a month, the salaries descending ac- 
cording to grade, the lowest being that of the 
ordinary seaman, who received eight dollars 
monthly. Among the officers there is a long 
list of well-known names, and that of John Paul 
Jones is in the group of first lieutenants. 

These ships, together with fourteen more of 
various sizes and dimensions, bought by Congress 
and altered for war purposes — though none of 
them were originally planned for war vessels — 
formed the nucleus for the navy of the Revolu- 
tion. These ships, which were reconstructed 
from such merchantmen as the Colonies could 
secure, were named Alfred, Columbus, Lexington, 
Reprisal, Cabot, Andrea Doria, Hamden, Provi- 
dence, Independence, Sachem, Hornet, Fly, Wasp, 
and Mosquito. 

Congress also resolved "That two battalions of 
marines be raised to be enlisted and commissioned 
to serve for and during the present war between 
Great Britain and the Colonies, and to be con- 



234 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

sidered as part of the Continental army before 
Boston; particular care to be taken that no per- 
sons be appointed or enlisted into said battalions, 
but such as are good seamen, so acquainted with 
maritime affairs as to be able to serve with ad- 
vantage at sea when required." 

The officers' uniforms were wonderful combi- 
nations of color — blue, red, and yellow — while the 
marines had green and white. At least, such were 
the designs of Congress, but it was many years 
before the fighting Americans on sea or land could 
afford much elegance of costume. 

The first naval expedition of the Revolution 
set forth from Philadelphia early in January, 
1776. It was a small squadron of eight cruisers, 
and the scene, as Captain Esek Hopkins stepped 
into his barge at the foot of Walnut Street and 
made his way through huge pieces of floating ice 
to his flag-ship, the Alfred, must have been most 
inspiring. The artillery boomed and the multi- 
tude cheered, when, on gaining the deck, " Cap- 
tain Dudley Saltonstall gave the signal, and First 
Lieutenant John Paul Jones hoisted a yellow 
silk flag, bearing the device of a pine tree and a 
rattlesnake, with the motto, ' Don't tread on me. ' 
This was the first flag hoisted on an American 
man-of-war. The ' Grand Union flag, ' with thir- 
teen American stripes, and the English 'Union 
Jack' in the field, was also displayed." 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 235 

The destination of this squadron was kept 
secret, but its mission was for coast protection, to 
keep the English vessels, still at sea, from landing 
their cargoes on our shores. So successful was 
this privateer work that the infant navy grew 
with marvelous speed. Any boat which could 
carry and handle a gun was pressed into service, 
and as our ships grew in size and importance, our 
officers became men of consequence and daring, 
and our common sailors became trained gunners, 
and the English gradually awoke to the fact that 
American ships were not to be laughed at. 
When, indeed, instead of keeping these ships 
at home for the defense of American shores, the 
Colonies sent them across the ocean to molest 
the enemy's shores, throwing them into constant 
alarm and endangering the shipping in their own 
harbors, the complacent English people began to 
be seriously troubled. Even the wisest states- 
man had not foreseen the possibility of an Ameri- 
can fleet. 

The first American crusier to show herself on 
the other side of the Atlantic was the sixteen- 
gun brig, Reprisal, under Captain Lambert 
Wickes. In the summer of 1776, this little ves- 
sel had been despatched to Martinique, in the 
West Indies, to bring back military stores to 
America, and had proved her prowess in a fight 
with the sixteen-gun sloop, Shark, commanded by 



236 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Captain Chapman, in which she succeeded in 
driving off her assailant. 

In the autumn of 1776, the Reprisal received 
orders to take Dr. Franklin to France. On the 
way, she captured two prizes, and, after landing 
her passenger safely in the harbor of Nantes, she 
sailed to the Bay of Biscay, where she captured 
two more vessels which were secretly sold to the 
French, the proceeds being delivered to Congress 
through the American Commissioners, who were 
much elated over these captures. Franklin wrote 
home: "We have not the least doubt but that 
two or three of the Continental frigates sent into 
the German Ocean with some less swift sailing 
cruisers, might intercept and seize a great part 
of the Baltic and Northern trade. . . . One 
frigate would be sufficient to destroy the whole of 
the Greenland whale fishery, or take the Hudson 
Bay ships returning." 

So bold were these American privateers that 
the British Government was severely taxed to 
protect the home coasts. English trade in 
the West Indies also suffered. In May, 1777, it 
was reported that fourteen English ships had 
been carried as prizes into Martinique, and the 
number of British vessels captured by the Ameri- 
cans was four hundred and sixty-seven. 

The English in the West Indies were terrified. 
One writes: "God knows, if this American war 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 237 

continues much longer, we shall all die with 
hunger. There was a Guineaman that came from 
Africa with four hundred and fifty negroes, 
some thousand weight of gold dust, and a 
great many elephant teeth; the whole cargo 
being computed to be worth twenty thousand 
pounds sterling, taken by an American priva- 
teer, a brig mounting fourteen cannon, a few 
days ago." 

There now appeared upon the horizon a name 
which stands in our history, side by side with 
that of Lafayette. John Paul Jones, a man of 
the people, a son of the sea, a Scotchman by birth, 
an American by adoption, came to the aid of the 
Patriots with his wonderful knowledge of all 
sea-craft and navigation. 

John Paul (which by the way was his full name) 
was the son of another John Paul, an honest 
gardener on the estate of the Earl of Selkirk. 
He was born at Arlingland, in an humble cottage 
near the shores of the Solway Frith, on July 6, 
1747, and beyond that bare fact, history records 
nothing of his little boyhood. In many ways, 
John Paul was a person of mystery , while his deeds 
of daring on the high seas struck such terror to his 
enemies that they shivered when they heard his 
name, and looked upon the brave little Com- 
modore as a supernatural being, though in reality 
he was merely an extraordinary seaman, to whom 



238 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

experience had taught the value of every wind 
and tide. 

Why he took the name of Jones is as great a 
mystery as the man himself; from the time he 
enrolled as First Lieutenant of the newborn navy, 
he had borne it probably with some whimsical 
idea that even such a common name could shed a 
lustre, and it did shine forth as a star of the first 
magnitude on a page blazoned with the names of 
famous seamen, such as Williams, Biddle, Mug- 
ford, Wickes, Hopkins, Robinson, Barney, and 
many others known to history. 

When he was twelve years old, he was sent to 
Whitehaven, on the English side of the Frith, and, 
as was the custom in those days, was bound as an 
apprentice to a man named Younger, who was 
engaged in the American trade, and he was sent 
immediately, in the ship Friendship, upon his 
first voyage to the new land. The destination of 
the ship happened to be the Rappahannock 
River, in Virginia, and near by, in the town of 
Fredericksburg, it so chanced that John Paul's 
elder brother, William, was married and settled, 
having made a tidy little fortune through thrift 
and industry. 

Young Paul had all the adventurer's love for 
America, and while there he spent his time in his 
brother's family, making the most of his land- 
leave by studying many things, especially the 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 239 

science of navigation which had always fasci- 
nated him. When he was thirteen, Mr. Younger's 
failure released him from his apprenticeship, and 
he was next appointed Third Mate on the slaver, 
King George; when he was nineteen he was pro- 
moted to the position of Chief Mate of the slaver, 
Two Friends, a brigantine of Jamaica. But this 
sort of work was not congenial to the young 
sailor, who finally withdrew from it, although 
at that time the slave trade was considered a 
very fair and honorable mode of business, which 
was carried on by "gentlemen of substance and 
station." 

After that, he was made Captain of a merchant- 
man, the John, engaged in West India trade, and 
it was on one of these voyages that he was ac- 
cused of having ordered the merciless flogging of 
the ship's carpenter, Mungo Maxwell, who after- 
wards had him summoned before the vice-ad- 
miralty court for assault. He was acquitted, 
however, though as flogging was the most ap- 
proved method of punishing on board ship in 
those days, doubtless the Captain of the John 
was within his rights, however cruel. 

In the year 1773, while engaged in trading with 
the Isle of Man, he received news of the death of 
his brother, William, in Virginia, and he found 
himself heir to the small estate, of which he took 
immediate possession; and little more was heard 



240 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

of him until his adopted country called him to 
her service. 

To those who study American history through 
the text-books, those naval encounters on that 
"No-Man's-Land," the sea, occupy so small a 
space in the actual reading that they are apt to 
undervalue their influence on the course of the 
Revolution. The privateers, with their able com- 
manders, harried England's coasts with the per- 
sistance of gadflies, and, when the skillful Ameri- 
can ship builders began to produce boats worthy 
of their foe, and to scatter them broadcast over 
the seas, Congress began to realize that, unless 
the navy was reinforced, even the bravery 
and daring of our captains could not make a 
strong enough stand against the mighty British 
fleet. 

John Paul Jones took the leap from obscurity 
to renown during the summer of 1776, when he 
hovered round the Island of Bermuda, on the 
Providence, capturing sixteen prizes. In the 
autumn, he waylaid the British ships, Mellish 
and Milford, bearing off supplies intended for 
Burgoyne's army. Then he was promoted to the 
command of the Ranger, and, in April, 1778, pro- 
ceeded to plunder the coasts of Scotland and 
England, and one of the first places he devastated 
was the estate of the Earl of Selkirk, the country 
of his birth. 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 24 1 

Perhaps he had a grudge against this Scottish 
landlord — who can tell! At any rate he re- 
turned the family plate to Lady Selkirk, with 
many " apologies and regrets." But he contin- 
ued his bold career of plunder, being considered 
by the English, whose war-ships were destroying 
our towns, a very prince of pirates. Jones well 
knew that he would be strung up to the yard- 
arm of the first English vessel that captured him, 
but his great nautical skill made him successful in 
dodging the English cruisers. 

When cornered by the British sloop, Drake, 
the dauntless Commander of the Ranger let 
loose his wrath, and, after an hour's bloody 
fighting, the Drake struck her colors and sur- 
rendered. After this, he raided the coast of 
Ireland, and then, with his prizes, sailed to the 
harbor at Brest, where his friends, the French- 
men, gave him the welcome of a hero, and pro- 
vided him with a small squadron to bring across 
the Atlantic to their friends, the Americans, 
placing him in command. 

There were five vessels in the little fleet — the 
Alliance, an American-built ship, with a French 
captain named Landais, who had many black 
marks against his name; the Pallas, a French 
merchantman, and two small privateers, the 
Cerf and the Vengeance. "The fifth and most 
important vessel of the squadron," writes El- 



242 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

bridge S. Brooks, "was the Admiral's flag-ship. 
This was a ramshackle and unseaworthy old 
Indiaman, formerly known as the Daras, but re- 
christened by Jones, in compliment to his friend, 
Franklin, the Bonhomme Richard, the 'Poor 
Richard' of the homespun philosophy of that 
day." It was a frigate with two decks, carrying 
forty guns, hastily armed and equipped, and in 
no way adapted for any rough usage, and was 
presented to Jones by the French Government. 

In truth, the ill-conditioned little fleet was one 
of Beaumarchais's investments, thinking that, 
with a commander like Jones, they would capture 
rich prizes, a large slice of which would be his. 
The crews of these ships were strange, villainous- 
looking specimens, while the captains and officers 
were very jealous of this young commander and 
of one another. 

Once out of the French ports, Jones well knew 
that the high seas held terrors for the little fleet, 
for well-manned and well-armed British vessels 
were haunting the coast on the lookout for plun- 
der. John Paul Jones felt that the eyes of the 
world were upon him, and the determination to 
"make good" steeled the courage of the little 
Commodore. He knew also that if he fought 
the English at all, the odds would be against him, 
for not only were his vessels inferior, but, with 
the exception of a few picked men gathered 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 243 

about him on the Bonhomme Richard, he could 
trust neither the commanders nor the crews. 

Meanwhile, across the North Sea came sailing 
forty merchantmen, guarded by two fine English 
war-ships, the Serapis, of forty-four guns, and the 
Countess of Scarborough, "an armed ship of 
twenty-six pounders." The moment they hove 
in sight, the Bonhomme Richard and the Pallas 
dashed into their midst. But the Alliance, with 
the cowardly traitor, Landais, and the two 
equally cowardly privateers, steered away from 
the danger. The English merchantmen hurried 
into safe harbor, and, while the Pallas attacked 
the Countess of Scarborough, the poor old Richard 
fired broadsides at the Serapis, thus beginning 
one of the most remarkable sea-fights in history. 
As one historian wittily remarks: "It was like 
a fight between a toothless old mastiff and a 
stout young bull-dog." 

At* the first broadside, many of the ancient 
rusty guns of the Richard were disabled, some of 
them bursting and so frightening the men on 
board that they refused to work them. 

When night fell, the fight was still raging. 
The two ships had grappled ; Jones, with his own 
hand, had fastened the ropes that hung from the 
bowsprit of the Serapis to the mizzen-mast of 
the Bonhomme Richard, the muzzles of their guns 
were almost touching, and their yards were all 



244 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

entangled. The carnage then began, for at 
night, in a hand to hand struggle, in the fitful 
glare of torches or lanterns, it was hard even to 
distinguish friend from foe. The men on the 
Serapis made ready to board the Bonhomme 
Richard, but, when they saw Jones and his men 
standing on the gangway, pikes in hand, they fell 
back daunted. 

The poor old Richard was having a dreadful 
time; the broadside of the Serapis had already 
torn holes through her side below the water line, 
and, of her forty guns, only two ''spunky nine- 
pounders" were fit for use. Once, during a lull 
in the fight, came the voice of Captain Pearson, 
the English commander, from the deck of the 
Serapis. 

"The Richard ahoy!" he shouted, "have you 
struck your colors?" 

"No!" came back the historic answer of the 
gardener's son, " I have not yet begun to fight!" 

Then the battle went on for three dreadful 
hours, while the " eighteen-pounders" of the 
Serapis tore the Richard almost to shreds; their 
three "nine-pounders" — they had added one 
more to the two pieces on the quarter deck — 
poured their deadly fire onto the deck of 
the Serapis. Finally the side of the Richard 
was battered in, and some of the crew cried for 
mercy. 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 245 

"Do you demand quarter?" hailed the Eng- 
lish captain. 

"No!" thundered the fiery little Commo- 
dore. 

Then the traitor, Captain Landais, aboard 
the Alliance, got in his good work by firing a 
broadside straight at the stern of the Richard. 
Again and again this treacherous deed was done, 
until the old ship, like a wounded thing, was 
bleeding at every pore. Fire burst out, the 
pumps stopped, and the leaks gained rapidly; 
the Richard was sinking. Again there was a 
cry for quarter, and a gunner ran to cut away the 
colors, but a shot from the Serapis carried away 
both the ensign staff and the gunner. Even 
the prisoners aboard the Richard were set free 
by some traitor's hand. But John Paul Jones 
fought on, driving the terrified prisoners to 
work the pumps in order to keep the vessel 
afloat. 

At last the end came; some of the sailors on 
the mainyard of the Richard dropped their hand- 
grenades through the open hatchway of the 
Serapis, exploding a powder chest and demoral- 
izing the crew. Then Jones aimed a double- 
headed shot at the mainmast of the Serapis, 
which stood out clear and distinct in the moon- 
light, and in the glare of the burning shrouds. It 
was that shot which won the day. The main- 



246 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

mast of the Serapis fell with a crash, the British 
colors were struck — and John Paul Jones was 
victor ! 

We look back upon these bloody sea-fights 
with something of a shudder, but, after all, was 
it more savage than the sea fighting of to-day? 
Then the quarter decks were the battle-ground; 
men fought and died and were thrown into the 
sea; it was cruel, it was barbarous but it was soon 
over. Now, the big battleships fight at long 
range, the giant guns send forth a thousand 
deaths in every sullen boom; then, through the 
water glides a trailing hidden serpent, and zip! 
a torpedo strikes the ship with the deadly guns, 
and slowly but surely she sinks, this glorious hand- 
iwork of man, and all on board go down in a 
death struggle, with a force far greater and more 
deadly than the hand to hand grapple with 
human foes! 

Even in the moment of victory the little Com- 
modore was stricken with grief, for the good 
Bonhomme Richard slowly sank before his eyes — 
no power could save her. But she had done her 
work, and, as the waters closed over her, the 
air rang with shouts of triumph, for the American 
colors were flying, and the Serapis and the 
Countess of Scarborough were rich prizes to carry 
to American shores. The Captain of the Alliance 
would have been court-martialed for his treach- 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 247 

ery, but he became violently insane and was heard 
of no more. 

This was only one of the many gallant sea- 
fights that helped to secure freedom for the 
American Colonies. Jones's victory stands out 
from all others because only an accomplished 
mariner could have kept such an old hulk as 
the Bonhomme Richard afloat under such a 
terrific strain, and when he heard that Captain 
Pearson had been knighted by King George for 
his gallant defense of the Serapis, he exclaimed: 
"Well, if I ever meet the Commodore again, I'll 
make a lord of him." It pleased our little Com- 
modore to be sarcastic. 

Wonderful were the feats of many captains 
in those stirring times. Captain Lambert Wickes 
spread havoc in the Irish Channel and the Bay of 
Biscay, but he and his crew lost their lives in a 
shipwreck off the rocky coast of Newfoundland 
on their .homeward cruise. Captain Mugford, 
another intrepid commander, in his little cruiser 
of fifty tons, captured a British ship of three 
hundred tons, and carried it safely into Boston, 
under the very guns of the English squadron. 
Mugford was afterwards surrounded by thirteen 
boats from the British fleet, and after sharp 
fighting fell mortally wounded, but with his last 
breath he shouted: "I am a dead man, but you 
can beat them. Don't give up the vessel." 



248 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Seth Harding and Samuel Smedley, with their 
little fleet of four schooners and a brig, captured 
three armed English transports and five hundred 
prisoners off Cape Cod. 

Nicholas Biddle, another brave American 
commander on board the Andrea Doria, took so 
many British prizes off the New England coast 
"that he reached port with only five of his orig- 
inal crew." The exploits of Captain Gustavus 
Connyngham became almost as celebrated as 
those of John Paul Jones, and the accounts of his 
adventures were considered almost too romantic 
to be true. 

In 1778 Captain John Barry did some dashing 
work along the water front of Philadelphia. He 
was commanding the Effingham, one of the ves- 
sels which had been trapped in the Delaware by 
the unexpected occupation of Philadelphia by the 
British. To be shut up in port was a great vex- 
ation to Barry whose fighting blood was up. He 
was in charge of all the imprisoned frigates and 
he knew it would be madness to take them 
down the stream, though he rightly thought a 
few light boats might get the sailors out of the 
harbor, and intercept some of the incoming pro- 
vision boats. Accordingly four boats manned 
with well armed crews and muffled oars set out 
on a dark night to patrol the river. Philadelphia 
was reached and well nigh passed, when one of the 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 249 

British men-of-war gave the alarm. The sailors 
bent to their oars and under cover of the darkness 
were able to get way down the river. Finally 
Barry spied a large schooner escorting four 
heavily laden transport ships and, though it was 
broad daylight, he succeeded in running his boats 
alongside of the schooner, and before the Eng- 
lishmen knew what had happened the Americans 
clambered over the decks and took possession. 
When Barry ordered the prisoners to come on 
deck it was found that one major, two captains, 
three lieutenants, ten soldiers, and about a 
hundred sailors and marines had surrendered to 
about thirty American sailors. Barry had hard 
work keeping his prizes and was obliged to sink 
the schooner in order to escape a pursuing frigate, 
and the captured transports, defended by Cap- 
tain Middleton, whom Barry had left in charge, 
were also recovered by the British, Middleton 
receiving a mortal wound. But Barry's daring 
exploit won the admiration not only of his coun- 
trymen but of the British as well, who offered 
him money and the command of a vessel if he 
would come over to their side. "Not the value 
and command of the whole British fleet," wrote 
Barry in reply "can seduce me from the cause 
of my country." 

These rover captains and their vessels did such 
damage that England began to fear this menace 



250 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

of the sea. But our cruisers guarding our own 
coasts were not only inferior to the British men- 
of-war, but there were not enough of them to give 
our harbors protection in case of a land fight. 
This was the secret of Washington's defeat on 
Long Island, and of his forced retreat to the 
heights along the Hudson. The British, pro- 
tected by their ships, could enter New York and 
hold it; the Americans could not attempt to 
storm the city unless they had enough fighting 
ships at command to engage the British ships in 
the harbor. 

In 1778, the French had sent a fleet of twelve 
men-of-war and four frigates to the aid of the 
Americans. They sailed from Toulon on April 
13, 1778, and were under the command of Comte 
d'Estaing, whose early years had been passed as a 
soldier, and who, late in life, transferred his services 
to the sea. He was conscientious, but neither a 
daring nor a skillful admiral, and the help on 
which both Washington and Lafayette had 
counted so hopefully seemed to be more of a 
hindrance, for, from the arrival of the fleet on 
July 7, 1778, to the departure for France, on 
October 8, 1779, after its failure to capture New- 
port, one disaster had followed upon the heels of 
another and in spite of the French alliance and 
pledges of help, nothing had been accomplished. 
Washington, whose dauntless resolution had 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 251 

never wavered, took a very gloomy view of the 
future. 

He declared: "If the enemy have it in their 
power to press us hard in this campaign, I know 
not what may be the consequence. Our army, 
as it now stands, is little more than the skeleton 
of an army." The treasury too was quite de- 
pleted, and if help did not come at once, the Col- 
onies must give up the fight. 

At this point Lafayette, with his unfailing 
courage and energy, came to the rescue. He 
asked Congress for a leave of absence and per- 
mission to go to France on a furlough. Washing- 
ton strongly advised Congress to grant his re- 
quest, firmly believing that the young officer's 
powers of persuasion would do more than any- 
thing else to convince his country of America's 
dire need. 

Congress, fully appreciating his services, not 
only granted the furlough, but presented him 
with a handsome sword, and the frigate Alliance 
was ordered to France in order to carry him home. 
This was the reason that the Alliance was in the 
French port when John Paul Jones and his little 
squadron set forth on their adventures. Lafay- 
ette had arrived in France in February, 1779, 
after a most thrilling voyage. As a compliment 
to the Marquis, Congress had given the command 
of the ship to Captain Pierre Landais, a fellow 



252 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

countryman, who as we have seen was later 
guilty of insubordination and treachery, to John 
Paul Jones, his superior officer. 

The ship itself, a thirty-two gun frigate, had 
received its name in honor of the recently signed 
treaty with France. It was at the last moment 
found very difficult to man such a large vessel, 
and, having as prisoners some English seamen 
from the Somerset, which had been wrecked the 
year before on the coast of New England, the 
authorities of Massachusetts offered them their 
liberty if they would serve on the Alliance on her 
passage to France. The offer was accepted, and 
these men, with some French sailors and some 
American volunteers, made up the crew of the 
Alliance, which sailed from Boston, January n, 
1779. 

The Americans were very timid about putting 
General Lafayette into the care of such ill-as- 
sorted men, for it was known that Parliament 
had passed a bill encouraging sailors on American 
ships, to rise on their officers, offering a reward 
if they succeeded in bringing the vessel into an 
English port, and it seems that the men on board 
the Alliance began to plan mutiny before they had 
been out many days; it was a well-laid diabolical 
scheme. The officers, the surgeon, the carpenter 
and the gunners were to be killed ; the lieutenants 
had either to navigate the ship to the nearest 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 253 

English port or to "walk the plank" — while the 
passengers, including Lafayette, were to be 
handed over as prisoners, to the English. 

The conspirators expected to act on the night 
of February 1, but they postponed their little 
frolic until four o'clock the next day, for there 
was one seaman whose unusual knowledge of 
navigation would be a great help, if they could 
induce him to work with them. They thought, 
from his brogue, that he was an Irishman, but 
in truth he was an American, and had appeared 
to favor their scheme, in order to give full in- 
formation to the officers. So closely was he 
watched that it was but an hour from the ap- 
pointed time, before he could have one word with 
the officer on deck, and he had a few moments in 
which to disclose the plot and name some faithful 
men who could be relied upon. Shortly before 
four o'clock, the officers, passengers, and the 
French and American sailors rushed on deck, 
fully armed, and overwhelmed the mutineers, 
who begged for mercy ; they were put in irons for 
the rest of the voyage, and were imprisoned on 
their arrival at Brest, but Lafayette would not 
hear of any further punishment. 

Lafayette found himself a hero when he ar- 
rived in France, and he made use of his popularity 
in getting help for the Americans. So well and 
so faithfully did he work during his few months' 



254 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

stay in France, that he returned in April, 1780, 
with the promise of 12,000 men and a strong 
fleet "to be completely subordinate to Washing- 
ton, and thus the combined armies would succeed 
in dealing England a blow where she would most 
feel it." 

On July 10, 1780, Admiral Ternay arrived at 
Newport with seven ships of the line and three 
frigates carrying 6,000 men, under the command 
of Count Rochambeau. This was half the num- 
ber of men promised ; the other 6,000 were block- 
aded in Brest harbor and never got away. The 
French fleet was tied up in Narragansett Bay by a 
strong British squadron, and it took Count 
Rochambeau a whole year to put his force into 
active service. 

It was after a conference with the French gen- 
eral at Hartford, that Arnold's treason was dis- 
covered and filled the land with horror. Mean- 
while, time was not wasted ; a better understand- 
ing sprang up between the French and American 
officers, and plans for the coming campaign were 
discussed and matured, Washington and his 
generals deciding to change the point of attack 
from the North to the South, where General 
Greene and his division were having some serious 
fighting. This resolution was strengthened as 
the months wore on. When the campaign of 
1 78 1 opened, the French and American armies 



OUR REVOLUTIONARY NAVY 255 

were at last side by side. The American forces 
rested on the Hudson, while the French forces 
were at their left, reaching out to the Bronx. 
Rochambeau 's headquarters were at Hart's Cor- 
ners, near where the line of the Harlem Railroad 
was afterwards built. 

Rochambeau and Washington soon became the 
warmest of friends; the precise Frenchman and 
the formal American found much in common, al- 
though at first their conversation was carried on 
with Lafayette as a go-between, for Rochambeau 
could speak no English, and Washington could 
speak no French. Rochambeau had the greatest 
respect for Washington's military powers, and 
was a big enough man to put himself and his com- 
mand entirely under the General's orders. 

For a long time the two generals and their 
armies hesitated about leaving such a big venture 
as the taking of New York, for they were en- 
camped within easy marching distance, but their 
decision was finally made, when, on August 14, 
news was received that the Comte de Grasse, with 
a powerful fleet, had sailed from France for Ches- 
apeake Bay. This settled the disputed question. 
Clinton in New York was a rich prize to be sure, 
but the British ships in the harbor were a terrible 
menace, while Cornwallis in Virginia, his troops 
sated with victory at every turn, had relied 
foolishly upon the land force, and never dreamed 



256 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

that the naval force of the French was quietly 
massing for the purpose of shutting him off 
from outside help. Slowly but surely, with as 
little confusion and as much secrecy as possible, 
the American and French forces quietly with- 
drew from the Hudson, crossing over into New 
Jersey without any opposition, completely de- 
ceiving the British army by building ovens and 
gathering provisions as if for a long campaign. 
Even when the army moved it was thought they 
were merely preparing for an attack on Staten 
Island. 

It was not until the American and French 
armies were marching through Philadelphia that 
Clinton awoke to the fact that Washington had 
slipped by and was on his way to Yorktown. 
For the first time his naval strategy had failed 
him. At the supreme moment the sea-power 
was in the hands of the allies, who were concen- 
trated in Chesapeake Bay. For Washington had 
learned the great lesson of war, the great de- 
pendence of a nation's army upon its navy. The 
spirit of patriotism burned anew among the 
soldiers as they marched on southern soil, while 
the ships' guns boomed their welcome from afar. 



CHAPTER XI 

FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 

OIX years had passed from the time the 
^ "minute men" of Massachusetts routed 
the British regulars at Lexington and Concord 
Bridge — six years of the most stubborn fighting 
known in the world's history. In this time 
America had found herself; she was not only the 
cradle of the new republic, but she was the 
land of heroes, springing fully armed on the 
blood-stained fields, after every hard-fought, 
hard-won victory. 

The brave Montgomery, who met his death 
in the siege of Quebec, was on the laurel-crowned 
list and was killed while leading his men to the 
assault on the last day of that eventful year of 
1775. It was there that Benedict Arnold, 
heroically rallying his men, received a wound in 
the knee which crippled him for life, and was 
compelled to leave the field. Better far had he 
fallen where he stood — never to rise again ! 

Day after day, men were doing deeds that 
rang through the world. Warren had fallen at 
Bunker Hill; Prescott had brought his handful 

257 



258 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

of men out of the very jaws of the enemy; 
Putnam was riding recklessly from one redoubt 
to the other, while bullets whizzed about his 
sturdy frame and his galloping steed. 

Washington was patiently waiting his hour of 
triumph at the siege of Boston, battling more 
fiercely with his undisciplined troops, with his 
enemies in Congress, and with his enemies in 
camp, than with his British foes. Again we see 
him at Valley Forge, sharing the hardships of his 
men, and, after the Long Island defeat, stead- 
ily retreating along the shores of the Hudson, 
calm and unafraid at every crisis, not to 
be moved from any path where duty called, 
and faithful to his great trust until the very 
last. 

With him, shoulder to shoulder, were such men 
as Nathanael Greene, Generals Sullivan, Schuyler, 
Knox, Morgan, Wayne and Putnam — men to 
be relied on in any emergency, of unquestioned 
loyalty and unfaltering patriotism, while at their 
command, by slow degrees, grew an army of 
sturdy soldiers, the result of Baron Steuben's 
military training. From the ragged host at 
Valley Forge had emerged this stalwart body of 
fighting men, and each day new companies, 
drilled and equipped as well as Congress's short 
purse strings would allow, found their places in 
the ranks. 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 259 

So far the fighting was confined to the sea- 
coast. The sea-board states were threatened by 
England's ships, and English vessels had landed 
men and stores and ammunition at unguarded 
ports, for the army was as yet too young and 
untried, and far too limited in numbers to stretch 
a line of protection from Massachusetts Bay to 
Charleston Harbor. Consequently towards the 
South, which was in a measure unprotected, the 
British determined to turn their attention, 
as well as towards the western frontier, which 
was thinly settled by a band of pioneer woods- 
men, who had chopped their way through the 
forest and had built a half-a-dozen block-houses 
and settlements, on which the present state of 
Kentucky was founded. This country was 
separated from the seaboard states, by a moun- 
tain range and an almost trackless wilderness. 
The pioneers of this new land were bold hunters 
and adventurers, who knew well how to build 
and how to protect their homes. 

The British now planned a campaign which 
was a blot upon their honor. They determined 
to unite all the tribes of wild Indians against 
these border Americans, to send them forth on 
savage warfare, and they were successful in 
massing the Northwestern and Western tribes 
to do this bloody work. The man who was 
entrusted with this Indian warfare was Henry 



260 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Hamilton, Lieutenant-Governor of the North- 
west, with headquarters at Detroit, and in 1776 
he turned the savages loose upon the American 
border. 

It was a cruel, dastardly war, not on armies, 
but on farmers, woodsmen and hunters, with 
their wives and families, and the Indians were 
rewarded for burning, pillaging and slaughtering, 
earning their wages by showing what they had 
done. They were paid so much per scalp, 
and Hamilton, hated and despised by the 
frontiersmen, was nicknamed the " Hair-buyer.' ' 
For two years the Indians did their work on the 
"dark and bloody ground" of Kentucky, but in 
spite of the dreadful carnage and the awful 
horror of it all, not a block-house was taken. 
The women fought for their homes as stub- 
bornly as the men and side by side, while under 
such leaders as Daniel Boone, Logan, Kenton, 
and many others, the little band finally came out 
victorious, though they paid the price with the 
lives of those nearest and dearest to them. 

There is no honor-roll for such heroes as these ; 
only the wild forest animals and the raging 
savages saw the fine courage of these men and 
women who determined to hold this virgin land 
which was theirs by right of possession. So they 
clung to their forts, willing to die in their defense, 
until the desolating hand of the Indians had 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 261 

ceased their direful work. But there was one 
man among them who was not only thinking of 
defense, but of pushing out towards the farther 
West, towards the edge of the great wilderness 
between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi, 
where lay the old French settlements, which 
had passed into the hands of the British after 
the conquest of Canada. The name of this man 
was George Rogers Clark, a Virginian by birth, 
and at the time of the Indian massacres, about 
twenty-five years of age. His idea was, that 
instead of staying home to defend Kentucky, 
the enemy would be seriously weakened if the 
pioneers carried the war into their country, 
and tried to win over the French inhabitants, 
thus breaking into the Indian campaign, 
and probably by fair speech winning over 
some of the Indians as well. Besides, he knew 
that the vast Illinois country would be a valuable 
addition to the American territory, could the 
Patriots succeed in conquering it. 

His far-reaching mind planned quickly, and 
he worked in secret. He chose two young 
hunters to find their way to the Illinois country 
and bring him information. He learned from 
them that the French, though they sometimes 
fought with the English, took little interest in the 
struggle, but they were rather afraid of the 
American woodsmen. This encouraged Clark 



262 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

to think that a certain amount of persuasion 
would give them the French as allies, especially 
as it was well known that France, the Mother 
Country, strongly sympathized with the strug- 
gling Colonies. 

To invade a country, however, required men 
and money, and so, saying nothing of his plans, 
he decided to go back to Virginia and appeal 
for aid and support to Patrick Henry who 
had been appointed Governor of the Colony. 
He could not have gone to a better person. If 
ever a man was misplaced in the service of his 
country, that man was Patrick Henry. The 
eloquence which had roused the people of 
Virginia — that resounding voice which thundered 
"we must fight!" had been carefully guarded 
for the councils of state. Henry's dearest wish 
had been to take the field, but like many of the 
other patriotic statesmen, he was not allowed 
to see active duty. So the ardent young Vir- 
ginian, full of his scheme for the opening of the 
Northwest, found a sympathizer in the great 
Governor, who permitted him to raise men for 
the relief of Kentucky, with secret orders to 
invade Illinois, and last, but not least, provided 
him with a very small amount of money. 

Everything depended on Clark's own energy 
and influence, and so well did he work that he 
succeeded in raising a hundred and fifty men, 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 263 

and in the spring of the year the little company, 
consisting besides, of a few families of settlers, 
started in flat boats down the Ohio River. 
Reaching the Falls of the Ohio, Clark left the 
families behind, to form a settlement, the begin- 
ning of the City of Louisville, and here he heard 
to his delight, that the Alliance Treaty had been 
signed in Paris, and he felt sure, consequently, 
that the French people in the Illinois country 
would rally around him. 

He was joined at the settlement by a band of 
Kentuckians under Kenton, one of the frontier 
leaders, and when every preparation had been 
made, Clark picked from his men, only those 
who could stand the utmost fatigue and hardship, 
and formed them into four companies. He 
procured boats, and with as little baggage as 
possible, the party went down the river, landing 
opposite the mouth of the Tennessee. There 
they fell in with some American hunters, who had 
explored the country and knew the way to 
Kaskaskia, the village which Clark wished to 
attack. Here Rocheblave, the Commandant 
who was in the British service, was well fortified, 
and the militia was well drilled, in short they were 
in readiness for any attack. 

The French in the town had been taught to 
dread the Americans, and if Clark wished to 
use them as allies, he felt that he had to approach 



264 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

them carefully. His plan was first to thoroughly 
frighten the French, and then show them that 
the Americans meant them no harm, and per- 
haps this unexpected behavior would have the 
proper effect. But to accomplish this purpose 
the town must be taken by surprise. After 
incredible hardships, the little band reached the 
Kaskaskia River just three miles from the town, 
on July 4, 1777. Clark procured boats to ferry 
his men across the river in complete darkness and 
in utter silence. On landing they formed in two 
divisions; one surrounding the little town, and 
the other following Clark to the fort where 
he placed his riflemen, and then led by one of 
the prisoners he had taken on his march, he 
himself slipped through the postern. 

He found the great hall of the fort ablaze with 
light, where music and dancing were the order 
of the night, and all were so eager and joyous 
they failed to notice Clark's silent figure as he 
stood with folded arms and watched the dancers. 
An Indian, crouching in the corner, more alert 
than the rest, was the first to catch sight of him, 
and springing to his feet, he gave the war-whoop. 
Instantly there was a commotion; the women 
screamed in terror, for Clark looked grim and 
war-like as he stood there in his frontier dress 
of., 'fringed buckskin. He told them not to be 
frightened but to go on dancing, only to re- 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 265 

member they were under American rule, and 
no longer British subjects. Then his men 
burst into the fort, and all the military 
officers, including Rocheblave himself, were 
captured. 

The surprise was so complete that not only 
the fort, but the whole town of Kaskaskia 
surrendered to this handful of men. Clark, 
making a pretense of having an overwhelming 
force, placed guards in every street and ordered 
everyone to keep in their houses, under pain 
of death. He meant to terrify the people, and 
he succeeded, for the next day a committee of the 
chief men of the town waited on him to beg that 
he would at least spare their lives. He answered 
that he had not come there to kill, but to give 
liberty to the sons of France, whose King was 
now the ally of the Americans. All he asked was 
that they too should join the Republic and help 
to fight for freedom. 

The French, having no great love for their 
English masters, were soon convinced, especially 
as Clark promised them full religious freedom, 
winning over their priest to his side. Rocheblave 
alone proved stubborn, so he was sent a prisoner 
to Virginia, from which he afterwards escaped. 
Two other towns, Cahokia and Vincennes, eagerly 
accepted the American rule and raised the flag, 
and Clark found himself master of a vast country, 



266 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

with less than two hundred men to hold it, and 
even these were threatening to leave. He per- 
suaded a hundred to remain, and then he told the 
French that he meant to go too; at this they 
implored him to stay and promised to furnish 
him with all the men he needed. That was 
what he wanted, and while he was drilling his 
French recruits, he turned his attention to the 
Indians, calling a great council of the chiefs at 
Cahokia. Here he had to work with much 
caution, but he succeeded at last in breaking up 
the English confederacy and securing pledges of 
peace from the Indians. 

Meantime Hamilton, hearing of the American 
invasion, marched against Vincennes with a large 
force, sending French couriers ahead to recall the 
Indians to their allegiance. After a long and 
toilsome journey from Detroit, he reached 
Vincennes with a force of five hundred English, 
French, and Indians, and the town was once more 
his. This was on December 17, and the winter 
coming on them. Hamilton decided not to move 
against Kaskaskia until the spring. It was a 
perilous undertaking to march into the winter 
wilderness, so he sent back most of his men to 
Detroit, with orders to return in the spring 
with a powerful force of a thousand men. But 
Clark had no idea of waiting to be overwhelmed 
by numbers at Kaskaskia; he decided to march 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 267 

at once and attack Hamilton at Vincennes, a 
distance of two hundred and forty miles. 

He sent a galley with guns to watch the 
Wabash River and cut off British reinforcements, 
and he and his men started merrily on their 
march. For the first week all went well; then 
they came to the Little Wabash River and found 
the branches swelled to a mighty stream, five 
miles wide. Undaunted, Clark set. to work and 
succeeded in having his little force ferried over, 
landing on a spot very near Vincennes, too 
near indeed to be able to shoot game in the 
forest near by. They were close enough to 
hear the morning and evening guns from the 
fort, and so were obliged to observe the great- 
est caution. 

The country was flooded, for a thaw had set 
in and the men struggled on, knee-deep in the 
water. They reached the Wabash River on 
February 20, 1777, and once more Clark was 
successful in having both men and baggage ferried 
across. Again they found flooded land, but 
they plunged in knee-deep, waist-deep, breast- 
deep; they were then on the same side of the 
river as Vincennes, and but a few miles away. 
Clark cheered them on, no longer the taciturn 
leader, but the gay comrade, putting strength 
and courage into those who faltered. The men 
followed him single file; twenty-five trusted men 



268 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

brought up the rear, who had orders to shoot 
any man who tried to desert. 

At last Vincennes was reached. Clark sent a 
prisoner ahead to announce his coming. The 
French retreated to their houses, terror-stricken. 
The Indians, though some held aloof, were im- 
pressed by the American leader's confident man- 
ner and offered to help him. Hamilton was 
completely surprised and the British were soon 
closely besieged in the fort. After sharp fight- 
ing Hamilton at last surrendered, and he and 
his men were made prisoners of war; most of 
them were paroled, but Hamilton was too big 
a prize; he was sent to Virginia with twenty- 
seven of his comrades. He had grown to be the 
terror of the country and with his removal the 
frightful border warfare was at an end. George 
Rogers Clark, the savior of the West, has his 
place in the ranks of the nation's heroes. He 
was one among that band of independent leaders, 
like Marion, Sumter, Pickens, and " Light Horse" 
Harry Lee, who by their brilliant and unexpected 
sallies did so much to intimidate and weaken the 
enemy. 

England, with the arrogance of a great power 
striving to break the will of her rebellious subjects, 
never imagined that the Indian raids on the 
western border could possibly end in defeat. 
She was quite certain that Hamilton was anni- 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 269 

hilating the helpless settlers, in the most satis- 
factory way, and so the Ministry decided also to 
let loose the Indians on the western border of 
the Southern states. In this way the King 
hoped to conquer the Southern Colonies, and 
accordingly they started by stirring up civil 
strife in the Carolinas and Georgia, and sending a 
force from New York under Colonel Campbell 
to invade Georgia. 

The Patriots in the South were totally un- 
prepared, for the country was full of royalists and 
the British were determined to be utterly without 
mercy, to destroy all property and plunder at 
their will. For a while the stunned and bleeding 
South was at the mercy of the enemy, the people 
of Georgia seemed wholly in the power of the 
British, who seized their slaves and sold them, 
stole their valuables and wrecked their homes. 
All the ferocity of the English bull-dog was let 
loose in this southern country, and for a while 
the people were dazed, but resistance flamed out 
at last — a resistance seasoned by hate, and a 
sense of wrong, suffering, and cruelty. Outrages 
unheard of in the North were perpetrated in the 
South, because the country was unprepared for 
war, and Washington, great as he was, could not 
be in two places at once. Their trials culminated 
in the taking of Charleston, South Carolina, by 
Clinton and his English troops. On May 12, 



270 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the gallant little city surrendered, and General 
Lincoln, the brave, patriotic, painstaking, but 
blundering American leader, was made a prisoner 
of war with his entire army. 

This fatal blow left no " centre of resistance" 
in the South. No American army was in the 
field, while the English streamed out in all 
directions. One body of soldiers marched up the 
Savannah to Augusta, another took the post in 
Ninety-Six, and still another under the lead of 
Tarleton, the Tory free-lance, fell upon a portion 
of the Virginia militia intended for the relief of 
Charleston, and massacred them after they 
surrendered. To cap the climax, the King 
issued a proclamation on June I, 1779, offering 
pardon to all who submitted to English rule, 
and on June 3, Clinton issued another, declaring 
that all who failed to take the oath of allegiance 
would be treated as rebels, and their lives would 
pay the forfeit. 

Three weeks after the fall of Charleston, Sir 
Henry Clinton wrote to England: "I may 
venture to assert that there are few men in 
South Carolina who are not either our prisoners 
or in arms with us." This seemed, indeed, to be 
the case. Many of the people, stunned by the 
surrender of the capital, were ready to yield 
and accept British rule in silence, and others if 
not loyal at least would have been neutral; but 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 271 

the British commanders offered no half measures, 
and to the spirited South Carolinians with a 
spark of patriotism in their bosoms, only one 
course remained — to fight for liberty if they could 
not have it any other way. So little by little, in- 
dependent leaders gathered around them, bands 
of determined men, and guerilla warfare ran 
riot through the South. 

These guerilla troops obeyed no orders save 
those of their leaders ; they were bands of raiders 
who scoured the country and brought the enemy 
to bay in unexpected places, galloping over hill 
and dale, intent upon destruction. Tarleton 
and his men were Tory guerillas; Marion and his 
men were Patriot guerillas, as were also Sumter 
and Pickens. A captured guerilla was shown 
no mercy, no matter how brave and how daring; 
he was lawless, and death was sure to be his 
sentence. The brave men, therefore, who were 
denied the right to live because they would not 
pass under England's yoke, rose in all directions, 
determined to fight England to the death. 

Arming themselves they took to the woods 
and swamps and became renowned in that down- 
trodden country. Looking about for a leader, 
these men found Francis Marion, who soon grew 
to be the terror of the enemy, who both hated 
and feared the " Swamp Fox" as they called 
him. He had been serving with Lincoln when a 



272 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

broken ankle sent him from Charleston before it 
surrendered. Marion was of Huguenot descent 
and was a seasoned soldier, having seen service in 
the old French war, knowing besides every 
twist and turning of the country. At his back 
thronged a strong host, men who had their own 
wrongs as well as those of their country to avenge. 

Thomas Sumter was another free lance, also 
like Marion, a soldier of the old French war, a 
Virginian by birth, a Colonel of a Continental 
regiment. His grievance was the grievance of 
many. The British had turned his wife out of 
doors and burned his house. This was enough 
for the bold leader; he gathered about him a 
following of men with wrongs like his to avenge, 
and he overran the country, spreading terror 
among the English and stirring renewed hope 
in the hearts of the despairing Patriots who 
rallied in vast numbers to the standards of these 
free-booters. "The war was spreading, the 
people were taking up arms, and Cornwallis, 
instead of being able to invade North Carolina — 
confident in the possession of South Carolina and 
Georgia — found that as he advanced, the country 
behind him broke out in revolt and that he really 
had little more than the ground which he could 
occupy." 

But the disaster at Charleston was a terrible 
blow to the Americans. Washington had long 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 273 

before urged Lincoln to evacuate, and the 
British had long since shown what a bad thing it 
was to hold and garrison the cities, but they had 
been allowed to evacuate Boston without blood- 
shed, and when hard pressed in Philadelphia, 
Howe had departed without any serious loss. 
In Charleston, however, the Americans were at 
the mercy of their captors. 

Before the fall of Charleston, Washington had 
sent reinforcements under Baron De Kalb, and 
some three or four hundred of the Virginia militia 
joined the Continental forces. It was late 
June when De Kalb reached North Carolina, 
where he found no provision made for the army, 
and a very undisciplined body of militia. Still 
there was at least the beginning of an army. 
What they needed was a good general ; Washing- 
ton suggested Greene, but Congress decided in 
favor of Gates, whom they persisted in believing 
had beaten Burgoyne in Saratoga. There 
Schuyler prepared the way for victory, and both 
the people and the army were elated and full of 
hope. 

In the Carolinas the people had been stunned 
by disaster, the country had been burned and 
sacked and looked desolate and down-trodden. 
It was a situation which called for ability which 
Gates did not possess. One historian tells us 
that the only intelligent step he took was to 



274 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

send Marion out to watch the enemy while he 
set the army in motion towards Camden. 
Naturally, when he arrived the partisan leaders 
were under his command but instead of keeping 
them close to the lines as guides to his men, to 
whom this new country was a pitfall of swamps 
and bogs, he allowed Sumter for instance, to 
take eight hundred men in order to cut off the 
British baggage train, and thus on the eve of 
battle he deprived himself of his very best fighters 
in the South. Worst of all, he had no idea how 
many men he had under his command. He 
thought he had seven thousand, but the actual 
count was three thousand and fifty-two, and 
many of these were "green" recruits who had 
never before reached the firing-line. 

The American camp besides was overrun with 
English spies, who knew exactly the strength and 
weakness of the whole command. To crown 
all, Cornwallis arriving in the English camp, 
determined to surprise the Americans and began 
to march August 15. Gates knowing nothing of 
the advancing British, marched on the same day 
straight into their arms. Then ensued the rout 
of the American army. Colonel Stevens of 
Virginia, a brave man, called the soldiers cowards, 
but he forgot that the unsteadiness of perfectly 
green militia is well known, and half the troops 
had never before faced fire. 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 275 

But the fault lay with the General and not the 
men; Gates placed his poorest troops in front 
and they went down before the enemy. In 
this battle De Kalb, wounded eleven times, died 
a prisoner in the hands of the British, and the 
American loss was eight hundred. Cornwallis 
himself lost four hundred — a big break in his 
ranks, but the American army was utterly 
broken and dispersed. Even Sumter lost half 
of his men, and "rode into Charlotte alone, with- 
out a saddle, and hatless," but with his usual 
energy he set to work to recruit another regiment 
which was soon in fighting trim. 

This was the darkest hour of the Revolution ; 
the three Southern Colonies were conquered, if 
not subdued, and everything seemed clear for 
Cornwallis to march upon Virginia, that great 
state, one of the ringleaders of the rebellion. 
But just here came the turn of the tide; Corn- 
wallis seeing how well guerilla warfare worked 
among the Southern leaders, stirred up his own 
free lances and sent Colonel Patrick Ferguson, a 
gallant officer, to trample out the last vestige 
of rebellion in the conquered states before going 
forward to Virginia. Cruger at the head of a 
band of loyalists had just defeated the Americans 
under Clark, in their attack on Augusta, and 
Ferguson's orders were to sweep along the 
borders of the Carolinas. He was a brilliant 



276 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

soldier and ranked with Tarleton in his daring 
methods; but he was more merciful, and while 
thinking he was within his rights to hang "rebels " 
whom he caught fighting against their King, he 
did not massacre his prisoners as Tarleton did. 

Just back of the coast which Ferguson had 
orders to devastate, were the mountains beyond 
which lay the settlements of Franklin and 
Holston, the future state of Tennessee. The 
settlers were the same type of pioneers as those 
who had fought with Boone and Clark in Ken- 
tucky. Ferguson paused long enough at the 
foot of the mountains to send a message to these 
people telling them that if they dared to send any 
aid to the people on the border, he would pene- 
trate the hills and destroy their villages. He 
could not have sent a more deliberate challenge, 
and the sturdy farmers were not likely to let it 
go by. As a matter of fact they had taken very 
little part in the war. 

Isaac Shelby had crossed the mountains with 
two hundred men to help the Carolinas, but 
that was all. These men of the West had all 
they could do to beat off the Indians, and even 
while farming, they always had their rifles 
within reach. So when they heard Ferguson's 
threats they did not wait for him to come and 
ravage their homes, they decided to go out and 
meet him. Shelby was the first to hear the 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 277 

news and he rode hot haste with it to Sevier, 
the county Lieutenant, and together the two 
determined men roused the country, and the 
settlers made ready for battle. 

On September 25, they began to assemble at 
Sycamore Shoals, on the Watauga, four hundred 
Virginians under William Campbell ; five hundred 
men from the more Southern settlements under 
Shelby and Sevier, and one hundred and sixty 
refugees under MacDowell of North Carolina. 
The expedition was blessed by a stern old 
Presbyterian minister, and the strange looking 
army "clad in buckskin shirts and fringed leg- 
gings, without a tent, a bayonet, or any baggage, 
and with hardly a sword among the officers, 
went forth to do battle and smite the foe with 
the sword of the Lord and Gideon." 

Every man was mounted and all had rifles, 
knives, and tomahawks. Every man was a 
fighter, and as they heard the foe gathering 
in numbers at every step, Shelby bade them 
remember "that each man must be his own 
officer, fight for his own hand, draw off if need be, 
but never leave the field, and when they met the 
British 'give them Indian play.' " 

So these grim warriors rode in pursuit of Fergu- 
son, coming up with him at King's Mountain. 
He was encamped on a spur of the mountain, 
which the mountain men surrounded, and here 



278 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

was fought one of the most thrilling battles of 
the war. It reads like a story, for there were 
gallantry and bravery on both sides, but the 
decisive blow was struck when Ferguson fell, 
pierced by half-a-dozen bullets. His figure had 
been the target of every man and his death was 
the crowning blow to the enemy; half the 
British regulars were killed and the rest were 
scattered. 

The victory of King's Mountain appalled 
Cornwallis ; he was afraid the frontiersmen would 
pour down upon the main army. But he was 
mistaken; they had hunted down and killed the 
man who had threatened their homes; they had 
wiped out his army, and having accomplished 
what they had set out to do, they turned back 
again to their Western forests which swallowed 
them completely. But they left behind them 
a monument of their bravery in this victory, which 
proved in truth the golden key to freedom. 

Cornwallis, had lost one of the most important 
parts of his army, and his advance through 
North Carolina to Virginia was checked; he 
was forced to retreat from Charlotte, and this in 
the face of constant firing along the road. Added 
to which Marion and his men had taken the 
field, and though Tarleton went after him, the 
"Swamp Fox" was too slippery. Cornwallis 
meantime had reached Winnsborough, a little 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 279 

town near Camden, and Sumter was again in the 
saddle intercepting the army supplies, attacking 
the loyalist militia; strong enough this time to 
beat Tarleton at his own game. With these two 
men, ever active, ever watchful, the English 
general began to lose hope of holding the interior 
country. 

The spirits of the Americans rose with the 
victory at King's Mountain, but though it 
turned the tide, it had been won by a set of 
independent fighters who had disappeared as 
swiftly as they had come. Though the Patriots 
were jubilant, they knew they could not free 
the South from its bondage without a regular 
army. Two armies had already been destroyed, 
now Congress was about to make another at- 
tempt. This time they allowed Washington to 
choose a Commander, and he selected Greene 
for the mighty task, sending him with only 
three hundred and fifty men from the Continental 
troops, feeling sure, as he said, that Greene had 
power to make an army wherever he went. 
The new Commander lost no time in presenting 
his needs to Congress. He wanted money, men, 
stores, and arms, and authority, above all. 
They gave him Steuben to form his army. 
They gave him all they could, and Greene, who 
never rested, begged and borrowed in all di- 
rections. He also persuaded Congress to give 



280 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

him Henry Lee, known as "Light-Horse Harry," 
as Lieutenant Colonel of a body of Cavalry, and 
having set all these things in motion he journeyed 
South to take command. 

He visited the legislatures of Delaware and 
Maryland on his way, obtaining many promises 
from these states. He pressed forward to 
Richmond where Jefferson, then Governor, 
promised him all the help Virginia could give. 
He wasted no time in words but he worked with 
an energy which soon began to tell. Unlike 
Gates, the first thing he did was to count his 
army and then he proceeded to discipline the 
men. The first man among the militia to go 
home without permission, was shot as a deserter, 
there was no fooling this time. While organ- 
izing the army, he examined the country. He 
pitched his camp on the fertile meadows of the 
Pedee, and marshalled his troops in daily drill. 
It was a weak and broken army, but there was 
hope in it, for Greene had chosen his officers with 
care. Right at hand he had found John Eager 
Howard, Colonel Otho Williams of Maryland, and 
William Washington of Virginia, a cousin of the 
General, while Harry Lee who had come with 
him, was reckoned the most brilliant cavalry 
officer of the Revolution. 

These officers were brave, experienced, pa- 
triotic gentlemen, representing the aristocracy 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 281 

of the South, but there was another higher still 
in military rank, though his blood was not so blue 
perhaps. This was General Daniel Morgan, 
born in New Jersey, the son of a poor Welsh 
emigrant who, beginning life as a day laborer 
and wagon driver, and having many adventures 
in his rugged career, settled finally in Virginia 
where he became a steady, hardworking planter 
and a friend of Washington. He took active 
part in the many Colonial wars and when the 
Revolution came, Washington recognizing his 
ability, trusted him far beyond many a man of 
longer pedigree. In the early part of the war, 
after the defeat of Burgoyne in which he had 
taken a prominent part, Congress did not 
reward him as he deserved, so he retired to his 
home in Virginia, but after the defeat at Camden 
he cast aside his resentment and once more gave 
his services to the sorely-pressed country, proving 
an invaluable aid. 

With all these officers, with Greene in Com- 
mand, with Steuben drilling and recruiting, it is 
small wonder that in the next engagement, the 
battle of the Cowpens, the Americans swept 
everything before them. The Cowpens was 
a place midway between Spartenberg and the 
Cherokee ford of the Broad River where cattle 
were rounded up and branded. Morgan was 
leading, and under him were such men as Pickens, 



282 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Colonel Washington, and Colonel Howard, and 
the hitherto invincible Tarleton, with eleven 
hundred men at his back, went down before the 
well-planned manceuvers of the Americans. It 
was a great victory though won by a small force ; 
it was the beginning of a new campaign in the 
South and it helped Greene more than anything 
else, in the making of his army, for hope and 
enthusiasm are great incentives, and his men 
went wild over Morgan's victory. But in spite 
of its value, Greene was worried because the 
two divisions of his army were separated, with 
Cornwallis's army between them, in hot pursuit 
of Morgan and his men. 

Greene determined to join Morgan at all risks. 
He accordingly put his army under the command 
of General Huger, with orders to meet him at 
Salisbury, and he also ordered boats to be 
prepared for the crossing of the Yadkin River, 
and he himself, accompanied only by a sergeant, 
rode night and day for one hundred and fifty 
miles in bad weather and through the enemy's 
country, in order to reach Morgan. Cornwallis 
had foolishly burned his baggage in his eager 
pursuit, and had the Catawba River, recently 
swollen by rains, not suddenly fallen, the British 
would not have been able to cross. As it was, 
however, they breasted the stream, but with 
serious loss, while Morgan, wisely retreating 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 283 

after his victory, got further away, reaching the 
Yadkin River before the British could overtake 
them. 

Here they were able to cross in the boats 
provided for them, and when Cornwallis came 
up he found his prey had escaped, for he had no 
boats. Greene who had meantime changed the 
place of meeting from Salisbury to Guilford, 
reached that point on February 8, 1781, and 
the very next day Huger brought the main army 
up, thus uniting all the American forces in the 
South and establishing Greene's reputation as a 
great general. 

When we remember the nature of this country, 
unknown as it was to the Continental soldiers, 
the unexpected swamps anpl bogs, the difficulties 
of communication, and the snail's pace at which 
news traveled, with neither railroad, nor tele- 
graph, nor telephone, nor wireless, Greene's 
carefully worked out plans seem marvelous; and 
all through the Southern campaign, sometimes 
chasing Cornwallis, and sometimes being chased 
by him, Greene persisted in his one purpose of 
pushing the British general over the border of 
North Carolina. 

There were many battles fought to accomplish 
this end; the battle of Guilford Court House, 
the battle of Hobkirk's Hill, the battle of Eutaw 
Springs, with victory sometimes on one side, 



284 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

sometimes on the other; but Greene had learned 
Washington's greatest lesson, that retreat does 
not mean defeat. Drawing off in time insured 
the existence of his army, and though he lost 
many a battle, he won the campaigns he had 
planned. The British had failed to break the 
American army and they had failed to hold the 
country. The result was that they simply held 
the seashore and the garrisoned town of Charles- 
ton, "and Greene, in the midst of all this wild 
fighting was resting and drilling his army, was 
slowly drawing in reinforcements to his well- 
ordered camp among the cool hills of San tee" 
during that eventful summer of 1781. 

Meanwhile, as we know, Washington had 
quietly withdrawn his forces from the Hudson 
River, and joining the French allies under 
Rochambeau, had reached Philadelphia before 
the enemy knew of his movements. Washington 
had spent his time while guarding the banks of 
the Hudson, in watching and waiting. For that 
far-seeing General well knew that until he could 
get a strong enough army and the command of 
the sea, the Americans would never be able to 
strike a fatal blow. 

Although hampered by distance he followed 
Greene's campaign in the South with keen interest. 
At the same time he employed much of his 
leisure in writing urgent appeals to Congress for 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 285 

money to maintain an army, which had hitherto 
only held together by the sheer force of his will. 
Congress had been sensible enough to make 
Robert Morris, Superintendent of Finances, and 
the Philadelphia Patriot took hold with bravery 
and firmness, having as his able assistant, Gou- 
verneur Morris of New York, — who strangely 
enough was not related to the financier — and 
between them they were able to be of substantial 
assistance to Washington, who never called for 
funds unless in dire need. 

Meanwhile, two new heroes had sprung to life 
during the Hudson campaign: Anthony Wayne, 
who drove the English from Stony Point after 
most brilliant fighting, taking five hundred 
prisoners and capturing valuable guns and 
munitions of war, and Henry Lee, the famous 
cavalry officer, who stormed and captured Paulus 
Hook where Jersey City now stands. Both of 
these intrepid commanders encouraged Washing- 
ton to believe that his army, well-drilled as it was, 
and seasoned with many victorious battles and 
campaigns, must conquer in the end, and he 
came at last to the dicision with the opening 
of the campaign in 1781, that another twelve- 
month should see the final battle of the war. 

The sailing of De Grasse's fleet for Chesapeake 
Bay, as we have seen, determined Washington to 
concentrate his forces in the South. He had al- 



286 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

ready sent " Light Horse Harry " and his regiment, 
at Greene's request, and hearing that General 
Clinton had sent a force under Arnold to ravage 
Virginia, Washington despatched Lafayette with 
twelve hundred Continentals to Virginia, in 
pursuit of the traitor. The French fleet was to 
support him, but somehow things did not work 
out and Arnold slipped through their fingers, 
though he and Phillips, the British General, were 
driven back. 

Lafayette, however, hung around Richmond 
until shortly after its capture, the British gave 
it up, and then he chased them so vigorously 
up and down the James River that Virginia was 
still unconquered, and Cornwallis, now thor- 
oughly roused, determined to march through 
the Carolinas and to cage and capture "that 
boy Lafayette," for such the young General of 
twenty-four seemed to the seasoned soldier of 
forty-three. 

Reaching Petersburg on May 24, 1781, he 
joined Arnold and marched out with his whole 
force to attack Lafayette at Richmond. Reach- 
ing Byrd's plantation and stabling his cavalry 
horses, so history informs us, in the beautiful 
rooms of that fine old mansion, Cornwallis wrote 
to his Chief: "The boy cannot escape me." 

"The boy," however, managed things dif- 
ferently. "Lord Cornwallis, " he said, "marches 



FROM LEXINGTON TO YORKTOWN 287 

with amazing celerity, but I have done every- 
thing I could, without arms or men, at least to 
impede him by local embarrassments." 

"These embarrassments," we are told, "were 
so skillfully arranged, that in spite of the noble 
earl's assurance, the 'boy' certainly did escape 
him and led him so vigorous a dance that he was 
fairly out-manceuvered by Lafayette, and with 
one desperate cry to Clinton for relief, fell into 
the trap laid for him by Lafayette; for cornered 
at Yorktown he speedily found the door of his 
cage shut and barred by the unexpected arrival of 
the combined forces of Washington and Rocham- 
beau." Reaching Williamsburg, the two armies 
took possession and sat down to the Siege of 
Yorktown, and they were both generous enough 
to own that to Lafayette they owed, not only 
the protection of Virginia from Tarleton's raids, 
but the position of Lord Cornwallis, securely 
trapped at Yorktown. 



CHAPTER XII 

OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 

/^N June 21, 1775, Washington left Philadel- 
V^ phia to take command of the army at 
Cambridge. Midway he was met by news of 
the Battle of Bunker Hill. "Did the militia 
fight?" was his only question. And when he 
heard how they fought, he merely said: "Then 
the liberties of the country are safe." 

It was this confidence in his men and in him- 
self which marked the inspired leader, and the 
men who stood in line at Cambridge on July 2, 
1775, when, with drawn sword, he took formal 
command of the army, recognized the indomi- 
table spirit of a commander who would insist upon 
obedience and discipline, whatever the cost. 

He found himself at the head of a body of 
armed men, rather than of a well-drilled force 
of militia-men who knew how to fight in their 
way, but who chafed under the restraints of a 
soldier's life. When, on assuming command, 
he visited the army posts, the prospect was most 
discouraging. He found the British very strongly 
intrenched near the site of the old battle-ground, 

288 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 289 

especially at Bunker Hill, where lay the main 
part of General Howe's army. Roxbury Neck 
was also well fortified by the English, while 
Boston itself was safeguarded by the light horse 
and a few of the troops. 

The American army at that time — though it 
numbered over thirteen thousand fighting men 
— could not be compared with the enemy's 
imposing troops. Besides which, Washington 
was forced to stretch his men out to protect 
various points threatened by the English. He 
arranged the army in three grand divisions, each 
consisting of two brigades or twelve regiments, 
being careful to keep the troops from the same 
colony together, if possible. The right wing, 
commanded by Major-General Ward, consisted 
of two brigades commanded by Brigadier-Gen- 
erals Thomas and Spencer, and was stationed at 
Roxbury; the left wing, under Major-General 
Lee, had under him Brigadier- General Greene, 
stationed at Prospect Hill, and Brigadier-General 
Sullivan, at Winter Hill. The centre of the 
army, under General Putnam, was, with the 
exception of his own Connecticut regiment, com- 
posed entirely of Massachusetts men. 

Washington, the born Virginian, brought up 
in all the traditions of the Royal Province, 
found his greatest problem lay in the fact that 
he had yet to earn the confidence of the New Eng- 



290 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

landers, of which his entire army was composed. 
The officers, men of education and culture, were 
quick to recognize his ability; but the sturdy 
farmers, whom he undertook to whip into shape, 
resented the stern discipline which he soon estab- 
lished. All offences were severely punished. 
Drunkenness, theft, disobedience to orders, dis- 
respect of officers, were common misdemeanors, 
and the offenders were often drummed out of 
camp or whipped at the front of the regiment, — 
even in more public places if necessary. The 
Rev. William Emerson, who was chaplain in one 
of the divisions, wrote in his diary: 

" There is great overturning in the camp as to 
order and regularity. New lords, new laws. 
The Generals, Washington and Lee, are upon the 
lines every day. . . . The strictest govern- 
ment is taking place, and great distinction is 
made between officers and soldiers. Every one 
is made to know his place and to keep in it or be 
tied up and receive thirty or forty lashes accord- 
ing to his crime. Thousands are at work every 
day from four to eleven o'clock in the morning. 
It is surprising how much work has been done." 

Washington's task was to drive the British 
from Boston. He had a stupendous labor before 
him, for the army, as it was — ill-disciplined, ill- 
provisioned and ill-equipped — would never have 
been able to conduct a siege. The Continental 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 291 

Congress worked slowly, for funds were low, and 
in declaring independence the Colonies were 
arraying themselves against a rich and powerful 
country, which would surely crush them unless 
they could procure enough money to properly 
equip and pay the men who were willing to fight. 
This problem at the beginning of the Revolution 
proved its greatest stumbling-block, until Con- 
gress sent forth its secret agents to seek, in far 
countries, the big loans — in men and money — 
with which to enable America to keep up her 
fight for liberty. 

In those early days of reforming the army, 
many critics blamed Washington for indecision 
in planning campaigns, when, in reality, he was 
in many ways ignorant of strictly military war 
tactics. Indian warfare was familiar to him 
through constant and bitter experience, and 
in accepting the command he had frankly 
confessed how unfit he considered himself for 
such responsibility. He could only promise 
loyalty and good faith with his best endeav- 
ors, as he said in writing of one of his 
officers : 

"His wants are common to us all, the want of 
experience to move upon a large scale, for the 
limited and contracted knowledge which any of 
us have in military matters stands in very little 
stead." 



292 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

It was this willingness on the part of the Com- 
mander-in-Chief to acknowledge his own short- 
comings, which won for him at last the confidence 
and respect of his entire army. In fighting the 
English, Washington was often out-generaled on 
the field through this confessed lack of military 
training. Yet the English were unfortunate in 
one respect — the towns and the territory they 
won often proved their prisons. Paul Leicester 
Ford, in speaking of this, in "The True George 
Washington," says: 

"They conquered New Jersey to meet defeat; 
they captured Philadelphia only to find it in 
danger; they established posts in North Carolina, 
only to abandon them; they overran Virginia 
to lay down their arms at Yorktown. . . . 
As Franklin said, when the news was announced 
that Howe had captured Philadelphia, ' No, Phil- 
adelphia has captured Howe.' " 

Howe, indeed, was unjustly censured by his 
government for evacuating his posts and saving 
his troops, instead of weakening them through 
starvation and all the horrors of a siege. 

This problem of keeping the army in existence 
was what perplexed Washington most. Many 
of the men had enlisted only for short terms, and 
no sooner had he succeeded in establishing some 
order and discipline, when whole regiments left 
without notice. The spirit of patriotism, which 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 293 

had animated the first farmer-soldiers, seemed 
to have disappeared; the men were grasping, 
greedy for money, and, in many instances plund- 
ering their own towns, even their own comrades ; 
but Washington was stern in his punishments. 
These deserting soldiers, being replaced by raw 
recruits, kept the army in a constant state of 
upheaval. 

The siege of Boston occupied ten months, 
during which Washington and his men learned 
much of the art of war. Redoubts were thrown 
up, batteries were planted on accessible heights; 
there were frequent skirmishes but no real 
fighting during all those months. The British, 
shut up in Boston, had nothing to do but to 
amuse themselves socially; there were balls and 
theatres and even masquerades, while the Ameri- 
cans worked quietly but steadily. For, with the 
Spring would come the issue, and they wished 
to be ready to meet it. 

Warfare in those Revolutionary times was a 
more primitive matter than it is to-day; there 
were no triumphs of invention to lighten the 
soldier's task, no airships nor submarines, nor 
automobiles, nor wireless; no mammoth cannon, 
no searchlights. The way had to be felt; the 
generals were forced to delay a battle for days 
while waiting for messages and details of the 
enemy's position. In battle, the men fought 



294 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

like tigers, burning and pillaging as they went; 
but, when victory was declared on one side or 
the other, it seems on looking backward that 
those old-time conquerors were more merciful 
to the vanquished than are the conquerors of 
to-day. 

The only evidences of barbarity were among 
the savages and freebooting bands of Tories, 
like those under Walter Butler. General Howe, 
after the Battle of Bunker Hill, when his troops 
encamped among the ruins of Charlestown, for- 
bade them to cut down trees or pilfer the deserted 
houses, on pain of death, and the same high- 
minded general, in evacuating Boston, left be- 
hind him a city which had been little touched by 
the ravages of the siege. Doctor Warren, a 
brother of the dead patriot, wrote in his diary 
that he found the streets clean and looking much 
better than he expected, and Washington re- 
ported to President Hancock "that his house 
had received no damage worth mentioning; that 
his family pictures were untouched, and his fur- 
niture was in tolerable order; and that the dam- 
age done to the houses and furniture generally 
was not equal to the report; but that the inhabi- 
tants suffered much from being plundered by the 
soldiery at their departure." 

True, the Old South Church, which had been 
the scene of so many town meetings, had been 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 295 

desecrated and turned into a riding school, 
and many buildings had been torn down for 
fuel. The Common, which the British had used 
so long as a camping ground, had been almost 
ruined, and many trees had been cut down all over 
the city, — the famous Liberty Tree of the Pa- 
triots being chopped up into fourteen cords of 
wood. Faneuil Hall had been turned into a 
theatre, and several churches had been occupied 
as barracks by the troops. 

The want of powder haunted Washington's 
camp like a spectre, for from the British works 
each day came a determined cannonade, which, 
for lack of powder, the Americans did not dare 
to return; they were prudently keeping their 
shot for fighting at closer range. 

On October 15, came a committee from Con- 
gress to inspect the army and to put in practice 
many plans and suggestions for reorganization. 
Benjamin Franklin headed this committee, and 
General Greene, who saw him for the first time, 
says of him: "I had the honor to be introduced 
to that very great man, Doctor Franklin, whom I 
viewed with silent admiration during the whole 
evening. Attention watched his lips, and con- 
viction closed his periods," meaning that he was 
a man of great weight in the council. 

Washington made known his desire to attack 
Boston ; but, at a council of war held to consider 



296 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the question, it was not thought advisable just 
then [October]. In this same month it was dis- 
covered that Doctor Benjamin Church, hitherto 
a trusted Patriot and prominent Son of Liberty, 
was corresponding with the enemy, which dis- 
turbed both camp and Colonies. 

It was about this time that Washington sug- 
gested the fitting out of numerous small vessels 
for the capture of other small craft belonging to 
the English. This was the infancy of our navy, 
and these small boats of privateers, as they were 
called, captured many valuable cargoes of cloth- 
ing, provisions and ammunition. 

On January 1, 1776, the King's speech in Par- 
liament was received in the camp, — a speech 
denouncing the "rebellious war" and promising 
to put a speedy end to the rising in America, by 
increasing the navy and asking for foreign aid 
to suppress it. Such a speech only strength- 
ened the American desire for independence, and 
in the American camp there was a renewed out- 
burst of patriotism when it was known that 
Hessians and Cossacks were to be hired to aid 
the English hosts in crushing the Colonies. It 
seems strange, too, that on this same day, the 
first Union flag of thirteen stripes, in compliment 
to the thirteen Colonies, was hoisted amid wild 
enthusiasm. General Greene suggested to a 
member of Congress that this was the time for a 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 297 

declaration of independence to be spread through- 
out the land, but it took six months more of 
uncertainty and debate to bring the thirteen 
Colonies to one mind. 

Through the troublesome fall and winter, 
Washington and his generals labored with an 
unruly army; recruits came in slowly; desertions 
were frequent; the men were underpaid and 
underfed. They liked action and not a long 
siege. But in spite of much anxiety and much 
discouragement, Washington persevered in his 
efforts at discipline so that, when the troops 
went into winter quarters, they numbered 17,633 
men. During the Winter, Colonel Knox and 
his men brought from Ticonderoga and Crown 
Point a great quantity of the ammunition stored 
there since the capture of the fort; also a goodly 
supply which had been taken from Fort George, 
in New York. On December 17, he wrote 
Washington: "1 hope in sixteen or seventeen 
days to present to your Excellency a noble train 
of artillery, the inventory of which I have 
enclosed." 

By spring, the Americans on fortified heights 
were ready to bombard Boston, which they did 
from time to time with such effect that Howe 
began to think seriously of evacuating the town, 
so exposed to the American batteries as to be no 
longer safe; the ships in the harbor, harassed by 



298 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the privateers, were not sufficient protection. 
On March 7, he resolved to evacuate and save 
his troops. But Washington, until he received 
official notice, went on with his preparations for 
storming the city, by planting a battery near 
the water at Dorchester Neck, with the intention 
of annoying the British shipping, Nook's Hill, 
being nearer to Boston, was the objective point 
of the Americans, but the British began such a 
fierce cannonading that the Americans could not 
fortify it, but answered the British challenge 
with their own cannon. 

On March 10, the evacuation began, but it 
was not until the 17th that the army was ready 
to embark. They left desolation in their wake 
by destroying whatever they could lay their 
hands on. But the time was short, and the good 
town's wounds soon healed. On March 20, the 
American army marched into Boston, and this 
must indeed have been a great day for the 
suffering Patriots and their wives and children. 

We have thus lingered at the siege of Boston 
to show what Washington had done, hampered 
as he was, not only with his own lack of experi- 
ence, but with a raw and often a mutinous army. 

As time went on the personality of this Vir- 
ginia gentleman began to make itself felt, and 
though enemies sprang up about him nothing 
could move George Washington from a strict 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 299 

performance of his duty. The same indomitable 
spirit which sustained his officers and soldiers 
through the winter at Valley Forge was with him 
in every undertaking. Like all great men he 
found his hands tied at the moment when action 
was necessary and of all his enemies the Conti- 
nental Congress was the most dangerous, because 
that body was higher in authority than this man 
who was risking everything in the service of his 
country. Even when a young man, and on the 
fatal Braddock expedition which placed him in 
the front rank of American soldiers, his bravery 
had been commented upon from one end of Vir- 
ginia to the other, and when he took his seat 
in the House of Burgesses on that memorable 
occasion when the Governor dissolved the assem- 
bly, a vote of thanks was first tendered to the 
valiant young Colonel with so many compli- 
ments that he was quite upset as he rose to 
reply; whereupon Speaker Robinson, taking pity 
on his confusion, said kindly: 

"Sit down, Colonel Washington, sit down. 
Your modesty equals your valor, and that sur- 
passes the power of any language I possess." 

It has often been said that in the Colony of 
Virginia, Washington was the sword, Jefferson 
was the pen, and Patrick Henry the tongue of 
the Revolution, and the true patriotism of these 
three men could not be doubted. Jefferson and 



300 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

Henry had done their work according to their 
consciences. It now remained for Washington 
to "make good" and this he determined to do 
according to his conscience, no matter at what 
cost to himself. His very appearance was well 
calculated to inspire confidence among his soldiers. 
The following is an excellent description of how 
he appeared to his contemporaries: 

"He is six feet tall with regular if somewhat 
unmovable features. His head is well-shaped, 
though not large, but is gracefully poised on a 
superb neck; a large and straight — rather than 
a prominent — nose; blue-gray, penetrating eyes 
which are widely separated and overhung by a 
heavy brow. His face is long rather than broad, 
with high, round cheek-bones, and terminates in 
a good, firm chin. He has a clear, though rather 
colorless, pale skin, which burns with the sun. 

. . . His mouth is large and generally 
firmly closed. . . . His features are regular 
and placid, with all the muscles of his face under 
perfect control, though . . . expressive of 
deep feeling when moved by emotions. In con- 
versation he looks you full in the face, is deliber- 
ate, deferential, and engaging. His voice is 
agreeable rather than strong. His demeanor at 
all times, composed and dignified. His move- 
ments and gestures are graceful, his walk majestic, 
— and he is a splendid horseman." 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 30I 

Washington was twenty-eight when this de- 
scription fitted him exactly, and one can imagine 
that, in the fourteen years which intervened, he 
had broadened in mind and experience as well as 
in body. The lithe, magnificently formed youth 
had developed into the soldierly man; a firmer 
set to his mouth, a deeper shadow of thought in 
the face, and the keen eyes beneath the over- 
hanging brows hid their own inscrutable secrets. 
George Washington had learned the first lesson 
of a soldier's life — to discipline himself — and this 
was the secret, in after years, of his wonderful 
influence over the raw and often mutinous troops, 
who threatened ruin to the Revolutionary army. 

His early life as a surveyor made a woodsman 
of the young Virginian. Every trail was familiar 
to him, and measurements and distances were as 
open books to him. He was familiar with trees 
and shrubs, with the habits of wild animals, and 
all the thousand voices of the forest. Above all, 
he knew the savages who still lurked in the 
wooded depths, which tribes were friendly to the 
whites, and which were foes, and his absolute 
mastery of a horse made him famous, even in 
Virginia, where horseback was the most approved 
method of travelling. 

No wonder then, with his peculiar abilities, 
that George Washington was destined for a high 
place in the history of his country; a review of 



302 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

his life and of the many and varied influences 
which produced this typical American would be 
interesting. We have only to do with the power- 
ful force which lay behind the calmness of his 
commanding presence — the remarkable moral, 
mental, and physical strength which led our 
Revolutionary heroes to victory. 

Washington's greatest campaign had its birth 
in the terrible defeat in the Battle of Long 
Island; his wonderful retreat through New Jersey, 
ending in the victorious Battles of Trenton and 
Princeton, turned the tide of popular opinion, 
and that snowy Christmas night of 1776, when 
our great Commander crossed the Delaware, is 
certainly one to be remembered in the pages of 
history. 

The Battle of Trenton was fought under the 
greatest difficulties, for the period of enlistment 
for most of the men expired on that very night 
and, if all his experienced soldiers left him at 
once, there was no hope of winning any battles 
with raw troops only at his command. So with 
characteristic energy, he tried moral suasion; 
he had the soldiers drawn up on parade, and, 
riding down the lines, he spoke to his regiments 
in brief soldiery style and implored them to 
remain until the end of the campaign, pledging 
his entire fortune if necessary for their mainte- 
nance and pay. His officers joined in this appeal 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 303 

and stirred the enthusiasm of the men, who prom- 
ised to stay on until the campaign was deter- 
mined one way or the other. The men who made 
this promise were naked, barefooted, hungry and 
frozen, but patriotism still burned with a ruddy 
glow, and their leader's forceful presence warmed 
their hearts, for Washington was a man of few 
words and many deeds — traits which had great 
weight among his followers. 

As the years passed, and under proper disci- 
pline the raw militia men became well-groomed, 
well-drilled Continental troops, Washington's 
enemies began to fear that his immense popular- 
ity in the army would raise him to yet greater 
heights, and innumerable efforts were made to 
pull him down from his high place, but nothing 
moved this calm and imperturbable character 
from his post of duty. 

From the Siege of Boston to the Siege of York- 
town, the history of Washington's exploits is 
the history of the Revolution. His far-seeing 
mind had planned the hemming in of Cornwallis 
at Yorktown, and his able Generals were but 
following his orders in massing their forces for 
the final attack. Before Boston, Washington 
had command of the most unpromising horde 
of untrained clodhoppers. Before Yorktown, 
his blue and buff Continentals could have 
rivalled any army in the world, while the flower 



304 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

of French chivalry stood waiting his word of 
command. 

When he led his army through Philadelphia on 
his way to join General Greene and the allies in 
the south, his long-pondered, well-laid plans 
gradually dawned upon the people. "Long 
live Washington!" was the toast of the day. 
"He is gone to catch Cornwallis in his mouse- 
trap!" 

On the 26th of September, 1781, began the 
Siege of Yorktown, Washington in person firing 
the first gun. On the 14th of October, after a 
valiant defence, the last redoubt surrendered to 
the Americans. Cornwallis, seeing the end com- 
ing, moved part of his troops to Gloucester hoping 
to escape by water; it was a mad idea and would 
have failed had it been attempted, but a storm 
upset his plans and his men were forced back 
into Yorktown, and so the brave English General, 
who had done his best to whip us, determined to 
surrender. The articles were drawn up on Octo- 
ber 18, and on October 19, at two o'clock, the 
garrison of Yorktown marched out to the tune 
of "The World Turned Upside Down." 

The proud and haughty Earl, chagrined and 
heartsick, kept his tent, but he sent his sword to 
his conqueror. It must have been a rare sight, 
that day of surrender, which saw the first break 
in the British Empire. But to the great Com- 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 305 

mander who had weathered the storm, it was a 
matter of rejoicing too deep for words. Sur- 
rounded by the band of faithful generals and 
staunch allies, he led the troops into Yorktown 
amid shouts of triumph. For the surrender of 
Yorktown was practically the close of the Revo- 
lution, although Charleston, besieged by Greene 
and his now formidable army, was not evacuated 
until the following year. Clinton, who had 
sailed from New York to Cornwallis's assistance, 
never reached his destination until October 24, 
five days too late, and hearing the news returned 
to New York though Washington was ready to 
give him battle. 

It is a strange coincidence that the two Colo- 
nies, which had been most active in stirring the 
rebellion, should have been the scenes of the first 
and last blows for freedom. As Henry Cabot 
Lodge beautifully puts it, "The drum-beat, faintly 
heard at Concord, was sounding very loudly 
now . . . upon the plains of Yorktown." 

Massachusetts and Virginia! No wonder they 
hold their heads proudly, for they have much to 
be proud of. Men of the stamp of Samuel and 
John Adams, of Hancock and Otis, of Jefferson 
and Patrick Henry, were as truly heroic as those 
who scaled the ramparts at Yorktown. 

It is hard to write a book of heroes, for the 
true hero is not distinguished by one act alone. 



306 HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

There were many, indeed, who trudged bare- 
footed along the road to victory, whose praises 
could be sung along with the gold-laced generals 
in blue and buff. There were many red-coats 
too, who shed their life-blood quite as valiantly. 
There were deeds of daring on both sides, and 
alas ! deeds of violence and cruelty, but war wears 
always a grim face, and only the victor smiles. 

America owes its freedom to-day to the courage 
and persistence with which every difficulty was 
met and overcome, whether by its statesmen, its 
warriors, or its allies. The victory at Yorktown 
was Lafayette's great gift to his hero, George 
Washington, for the gallant young Frenchman 
could have stormed the English long before 
Washington arrived, but he was determined that 
his beloved Chief, and no other, should lead the 
allied forces to this crowning victory, "and so 
he loyally held back the fall of the curtain until 
the central figure and chief actor in the great 
drama came upon the stage." 

Above all, America owes undying tribute to 
this one man, whose virtues and whose ability 
stand out above his fellows. 

It is customary to praise George Washington, 
and patriotic to hail him as the Father of his 
Country and to declare him "first in war, first 
in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen. " 
The very school children of to-day, before they 



OUR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 307 

know the meaning of the words they utter, recite 
these phrases with parrot-like precision, but we, 
who read the story of his life with love and under- 
standing, know that George Washington was a 
true hero, not merely because of his deeds as a 
warrior and a statesman, but because there was 
something in the man himself which outshone 
all earthly lustre, and which will shine even when 
the walls of great cities crumble into dust. The 
Spirit of Liberty which prompted our Revolu- 
tion, still lives in these United States, just as 
surely as the spirit of George Washington, our 
hero of heroes, lives in the hearts of every true 
Patriot. 



THE END 






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LIBRARY 



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